Hajime no Keitaro
by Cizzymac
Summary: Love Hina Hajime no Ippo crossover! Keitaro, tired of feeling abused and unconfident, meets a group of professional boxers that may have a solution. But the road is hard, and paved with pain. Can Keitaro reach his goals? Rated for language and violence.
1. Ronin's Road

Author's note: This story will contain spoilers for both Live Hina and Hajime no Ippo. All borrowed works copyrighted by their specific authors. Enjoy!

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Hajime no Keitaro: Ronin's Road

It was a late summer afternoon like most others that year: the sun made it's descent over the crashing waves, lending the last of its warmth before the stiff, cool breeze of the Pacific washed over the temporary summer employees at the Hinata beach teahouse. Having just closed for business that day, the teahouse's proprietor, Keitaro Urashima, was busy, as was usual when operating a bustling business in a rickety old building, repairing some salt-water damaged floorboards in the kitchen.

He had discovered the damage by accident; he fell through the brittle wood while carrying a heaping bowl full of fish guts and other food scraps out to the trash bin. Naturally for him, the bowl overturned on top of him, leaving him standing waist deep in the floor, covered from head to toe in food waste.

Mishaps of that nature had seemingly increased to more than epic proportions over the past several weeks for the bad-luck-ridden Keitaro. He was sure it was being caused by the god-forsaken teahouse he was charged with running every summer to help support his real job: managing the all-female Hinata Dormitory, home to some of the most wicked, cruel, and most beautiful women he had ever met.

"Just three more days," Keitaro told himself for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Then he could get back to the normal amount of bad luck he experienced every day at Hinata Dorm. He reached for one final eight-inch nail from the box in the toolkit next to him, and proceeded to nail it into the floorboard to keep it in place. In such a rush to finally complete the job, Keitaro unconsciously hammered the nail before he moved his thumb out of the way.

Keitaro gasped, with fifty percent pain, fifty percent unbridled fury at his own stupidity. He held a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He had enough of being laughed at by the tenants of his dorm, who also doubled as employees at the teahouse. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing agony in his thumb, Keitaro quickly finished hammering in the final nail, threw the hammer in the toolbox unceremoniously, and slammed it closed.

Keitaro stood, stretching his back out languidly, allowing the blood to flow back into the muscles, a deep groan escaping his lips as he reached backwards as far as he could.

From the front of the teahouse, Keitaro overheard one of his tenants, Kitsune, call out from the front of the store, "Hey, guys, they are back again! Come look!" Keitaro heard the sounds of banging wood as chairs were thrown into the tables accompanied by heavy footsteps as the other girls rushed to gather around Kitsune.

Keitaro tried his best to ignore them. They had been doing this very thing on and off for several days now, spying on some people at the beach. But this time it was different. He overheard them, on accident of course, talking about them. In particular, he heard his crush, Narusegawa Naru, say, "He has an amazing body!"

That caught Keitaro's attention. "They are looking at other guys on the beach!" he exclaimed to himself as softly as possible, trying to stem the tide of his frustration. He debated fleeing the scene of the crime or seeing exactly what his competition was. His ears made the decision for him.

"That big guy is obviously the best looking one," Kitsune concluded.

"I don't know, the small guy is pretty good too," Naru noted.

"That guy with the afro looks pretty cheeky," Motoko said.

"I think they are all too muscular," Shinobu said.

"Aww, I wanna play with them too!" Su exclaimed.

"Geez, they are all getting in on the act! Even Motoko and Shinobu!" Keitaro whispered. Before he realized what he was doing, Keitaro poked his head out of the side door of the teahouse, squinting in the direction of the setting sun, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at.

After a few seconds they came running into his view on the sand. There were four of them: One of them was much larger than the others; two were about the same size, but still much smaller than the large one, and one small fry brought up the rear. All of them were wearing nothing but bathing suits, and were sprinting across the sand. Before Keitaro could get a better look at them, they vanished from sight, leaving a large cloud of sand in their wake.

"And there they go again," Kitsune said. "I swear I recognize that big guy from somewhere."

"You say that every time, Kitsune," Naru said, nudging her friend with her elbow.

"Because it's true!" Kitsune cried out, defending her position.

"At any rate, we should return to our duties," Motoko calmly stated.

"Yeah, yeah," Kitsune sighed, hopping off of the railing she was sitting on.

Keitaro quickly moved back into the kitchen, cleaning dishes as if he heard nothing. Not a moment later, Naru threw open the swinging door from the customer floor to the kitchen.

"Hey, Naru, be careful there, the floor is still wet," Keitaro warned in haste.

Naru, only half-listening to Keitaro's warning, proceeded into the freshly mopped kitchen. "Say whaaaaaaaaaaah!" Mid question, she slipped backwards, ending up head over heels on the kitchen floor, nursing a sore tailbone.

Keitaro dropped the pan he was rinsing off and rushed over to help Naru to her feet. As was wont for him to do, Keitaro stepped into the very same spot he warned Naru against, falling forward and landing directly on top of her!

"Sorry," Keitaro chirped, leaping back to his feet as quickly as possible and bowing in front of Naru. He did not hear a response from her for several moments, so he poked an eye open, only to see a vicious right cross zooming straight for his head! He instinctively clenched his teeth and braced for the impact, which slammed against his cheek and sent him flying out of the back door of the restaurant and somewhere into the evening sky.

The next day was Sunday, which meant the teahouse was closed for business. And that meant it was a free day for Keitaro and company. Today was the long-awaited free day at the beach! At least, it was a free day for the girls. Keitaro was left carrying three coolers chock-full of ice and beverages, looking rather lame as he strained the last several meters to an open spot on the sand.

Finally reaching his destination, Keitaro tossed the coolers off of his shoulders, not caring that they fell rather precariously, nearly letting out their contents. He put his hands on his thighs, panting through his open mouth.

"Such a weakling," came the pitiful comment from Motoko, who was clad in a conservative blue one-piece swimsuit.

Keitaro glared in her direction. _"I'd like to see you carry all of those," _he thought to himself.

Motoko whirled around, looking Keitaro in the eye. "Did you say something?" she asked accusingly.

"N-no, I didn't say anything," Keitaro responded defensively. After Motoko turned back around, Keitaro let out a small sigh of relief. It would not surprise Keitaro in the least if she were able to hear his own thoughts. She seemed to hear everything else.

"Hey, Keitaro, hand me a beer, would ya?" Kitsune requested nonchalantly, as if it were expected.

"Sure," Keitaro responded unconsciously. He sifted through one of the coolers and pulled a can of beer from near the bottom. He handed it over to Kitsune, who did nothing but take it out of his hand. Not even a grunt of a thank-you. She just cracked it open and took a hefty swig from the can.

Keitaro figured he would take this opportunity to escape into the water before he was asked to do anything else. He took no more than two steps when…"Where do you think you are going?" he heard Naru ask from behind him. Keitaro turned around and started to explain, but Naru cut him off. "Set this umbrella up for us."

Keitaro's shoulders slumped. "Fine." While Keitaro was in the middle of getting the umbrella buried firmly enough into the sand so it would stand upright, all the girls decided to run off into the ocean, leaving Keitaro behind. He tossed the idea around in his mind to just leave the umbrella how it was and take off to do his own thing, but thought better of it. The consequences of such a thing were disastrous.

After another 10 minutes of grueling work, a sweat-drenched Keitaro finally finished planting the umbrella and sat under it for a few moments to cool off. He cracked open a bottle of cola and pulled a large swig from it, sighing heavily as he swallowed. He watched the girls playing some volleyball in the water and smiled inwardly. As much as he hated the verbal and physical abuse they meted out, he saw something in the tenants that made it impossible for him to hate them. He also acknowledged that his virtually infinitesimal self-worth surely was not helping matters much.

What makes me stay? Keitaro asked himself this question a million times in any given day. Of course, this question was purely rhetorical, as he honestly had no other choice. He could not live with his parents again, nor could he afford his own place. More to the point, he asked himself why he dealt with the daily punishment from some of the women simply for being alive. But every time he was convinced that he could stand no more, he would somehow run into Naru, and the thought perished where it stood. He was mad about her. But once again, his non-existent self-esteem stood in the way of reaching for her and revealing his affections.

"If only I had some confidence," Keitaro mumbled aloud, "maybe I could turn this hell into paradise." Keitaro polished off the remainder of his beverage and tossed the empty glass container back into the ice chest. He laughed inwardly at the thought of actually standing up to his oppressors, or acting cool and confident around Naru, thinking how out of character it would be. Keitaro stood up and stretched, putting the thought out of his mind.

Keitaro heard some commotion coming from the direction where the girls were and Keitaro looked up to see them all waving in his direction and hooting and hollering. Keitaro raised his arms and started to wave back when he noticed a group running across the sand. He squinted, trying to focus on them, and he quickly realized it was the group of men he saw from the teahouse before. His heart sank as he surmised they were not waving at him, but at them.

Keitaro stared at the group of men dashing across the sand, his initial embarrassment turning to annoyance, then to anger, and blossoming into rage. Without warning, his lower body took over the rest of his body, and he ran away from the umbrella, chasing after the group. Half of his brain just wanted him to get away from that embarrassing situation, and the other half wanted to find out just who the hell they thought they were.

After about ten minutes of running at nearly full speed, Keitaro's adrenaline level started to level off, and a jolt of pain shot through his legs and chest. He collapsed to his knees, panting and wheezing mightily. He saw that he not only was no closer to catching the group running ahead of him, but they were now completely out of his sight. Only a trail of footsteps in the sand left any indication that they were even there.

Taking a few minutes to catch his breath, Keitaro stood and walked in the direction the footsteps lead. He still wanted to see who those guys were and why they were running on the beach every day. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, the footsteps at last lead away from the beach and towards an old but well-maintained building just off of the sand.

Stepping through the sand towards the building, dull thumping sounds coming from the structure reached Keitaro's ears. Although the sounds made him more than just a little nervous, Keitaro's curiosity outweighed any fear he may have had. He peeked through one of the two filthy windows on the side of the building.

Keitaro gasped audibly at the sight, and he ducked instinctively at the sound of his own voice. He waited a few moments, half-expecting someone to come out and chase him back to where he came from. However, the commotion from the building did not change, and Keitaro slowly raised himself so he was looking in again. The first thing he noticed was a rather large man wearing black sweats wearing thick red boxing gloves pounding on a punching bag. With each blow the bag flew backward noticeably, and the man's fists were merely a blur to Keitaro's eyes. Further into the gym he noticed two men, smaller than the first, jumping rope at a breakneck speed. To Keitaro's surprise, they did not appear to be laboring at all. In the boxing ring on the far side, Keitaro saw another man with gloves on, this one even smaller than the other two, as well as an old man holding boxing mitts. The old man was barking orders at the younger man, who responded with lightning fast blows at the old man's hands.

Keitaro was awestruck by the man in the ring. He appeared to be strong, agile, and confident. He was wearing a sweatshirt that Keitaro squinted to read. Finally, he saw that it said, "KAMOGAWA BOXING GYM". "So, they really are boxers," Keitaro whispered to himself. He continued to watch the man in the ring bounce around the old man and deliver sharp punches to the old man's mitts. "_I bet he's never had to deal with any abuse from anyone,_" Keitaro pondered.

"Hey," a deep voice boomed from right behind Keitaro, whose eyes widened with shock and legs trembled in fear of certain death for eavesdropping. "What are you doing there?" the voice asked. Keitaro turned slowly until his eyes met the largest of the men that was pounding the daylights out of what was left of the punching bag inside the building. Keitaro suddenly realized he was so mesmerized by the one in the ring that the other man now standing in front of him must have noticed him. The man loomed over Keitaro, standing a full head over him.

Keitaro smiled weakly, then bolted back towards the beach as if he were shot out of a cannon. The man watched in amusement as Keitaro kicked up a thick cloud of sand in his wake as he ran for dear life. Within a matter of seconds, Keitaro was completely out of the man's sight. "He's pretty fast," he noted aloud.

Keitaro continued to run as fast as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his leg muscles. He was certain that that imposing figure was right behind him, giving chase. He finally stopped when he reached the umbrella he'd set up before. In fact, he had collapsed in front of it.

"Ah, there you are, Keitaro," Kitsune said rather nonchalantly after seeing her landlord collapse in front of her. She was sitting under the umbrella applying some sun block to her arms. "Hit on some girls with boyfriends again?" she asked flippantly.

"I wish it were that," Keitaro muttered. One thing was for certain. If he ever ran into that big guy again, it would be too soon.

NEXT TIME, ON HAJIME NO KEITARO: Keitaro's luck only continues to worsen after the group of boxers come into the teashop for some drinks! However, this may also be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him to gain the confidence he longs after. Could a brutal workout regimen be just what he needs? And what will the Hinata Sou tenants think? Find out next time on: Hajime no Keitaro!!!

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Author's note: Man, it's been far too long since I've written anything that could be considered postable. It's good to be back. Anyway, after all the stories written about LH on this site, I wanted to try something that might be a little more...unique. I think this will accomplish that nicely.


	2. The First Step

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Hajime No Keitaro: The First Step

Mondays tended to be the busiest days around the beach teahouse, and this one was no exception. However, this particular Monday was the last day the summer teahouse would be in business. And it seemed everyone in town knew it. That made business twice as heavy.

Keitaro, with a cool exterior, hastily wrote down order after order the girls fielded to him through the small portal from the front to the kitchen. He was used to working in a rush, and he effortlessly bounded from one task to the next.

"Keitaro, I need my," Kitsune began, but Keitaro cut her off by quickly tossing her requested items through the opening. Kitsune blinked momentarily, then muttered a quick thanks before picking up the order and rushing it to the waiting patrons.

Next was Naru. "I know you are busy, Keitaro, but…"

Again, Keitaro interrupted. "I'll get right on it, Narusegawa," he replied cheerfully, not bothering to stop what he was doing.

"But I haven't even told you what to do!"

"You need me to clean a spill in the front; I heard the crash."

Naru's cheeks turned a slight tinge of pink as her blunder was revealed.

"Don't worry, I'll get right on it," Keitaro reassured her. "Just go back to work."

"Right," Naru replied. She started to turn around, then remembered. "Oh, I need another…"

Keitaro tossed another plate matching the exact order Naru had unceremoniously dropped in the dining hall.

Naru gawked at Keitaro incredulously for a moment before a smile crept onto her face. "You're pretty good when you try, Keitaro."

"Do your best out there, Narusegawa," Keitaro replied happily.

"Hai," Naru returned before heading off.

Keitaro smiled inwardly a few second before suddenly freezing in place. "She just complimented me for the first time in God knows how long," he whispered to himself. A warm feeling filled the pit of his stomach and his cheeks flushed a tight shade of pink as his smile turned into a grin. "I think I may have just leveled up a bit," he thought to himself.

The workday seemed to fly by for everyone working in the teashop that day, mostly due to no slowdown at all in the business. There was at least an hour-long wait for a table at all times during the day, and all the patrons seemed willing to wait for as long as it took to enjoy the teahouse's visual and culinary offerings one last time that summer.

As the sun approached the waves, things finally started to wind down. Eventually, when business hours ended, they had to post Shinobu at the door to turn away guests.

"She sure is a trooper," Kitsune noted aloud as she watched Shinobu turn away yet another group of young men trying to get in the teashop at the very last moment.

"Yeah," Motoko noted stoically, bussing a table that had just been vacated.

Su, leaning on Motoko as she usually did, said with a somewhat depressed tone, "Summer is over already."

"But that means you get to go home and work on your inventions again," Naru noted, trying to cheer Su up.

Predictably, that did the trick. "That's true! I just remembered I'm really close to a new Mecha Tamago version!"

Naru, Kitsune and Motoko chuckled nervously at the mad scientist's revelation.

Meanwhile, Shinobu was busy turning away yet another group. "I'm so sorry, but we are closed for business for the rest of the day. Please come back when we reopen next summer."

"Damn, man. I was looking forward to this the whole time we were here."

"I know! This really sucks."

"I guess it can't be helped then."

"Are you sure you couldn't just squeeze us in?"

Kitsune turned to see who was standing at the entrance. When she saw them, she was at the front entrance almost instantly. "Yes, yes, we can take you. Please come in," she said in her most bubbly voice.

"But, Kitsune-san," Shinobu tried to protest.

Kitsune waved her hand dismissively at the young teen. "It's okay, this is the last day we're open, after all. Now, please follow me."

Naru was about to chastise her best friend for allowing more patrons in after hours, but she stopped when she saw who the guests were. Trying to contain her excitement, she ran to the back, where Keitaro was busy tidying up the kitchen area.

"Hey, we've got some more guests. Get ready to take one more order."

Keitaro peered at Naru, exasperated. "What do you mean, more guests? It's way past closing time."

Naru scoffed. "Quit crying, it's just one more group." Without waiting for a response, Naru ducked her head back to the dining area.

"What the hell is going on here?" Keitaro asked the walls. He strode over to the door to the front and poked his head through the portal. Almost immediately, he snapped his head back. He chuckled nervously. "There's no way my luck is this bad." He looked again. And again he coiled his head back through the door quickly. Letting out a defeated sigh, Keitaro set to warm up the kitchen one last time.

In the meantime, the others were courting the guests. "You are Mamoru Takamura, aren't you?" Kitsune asked the largest of the guests, making sure to lean over him as far as possible, so her generous cleavage was in plain sight under her two-piece swimsuit.

Takamura chuckled haughtily. "That's right. The Japanese Middleweight Champion is here!" The undefeated king of Japanese boxing tried his best to not appear that he was leering at Kitsune's assets, but failed miserably. He was unaware, however, that she was practically inviting him to look.

Not wanting Takamura to suck up all the attention, one of the other men spoke up. "So you are a boxing fan, miss?"

Kitsune turned to the man. "Yes, I'm a huge fan of boxing." Truth be told, Kitsune had lost more of Keitaro's money betting on boxing than she cared to remember.

"So you've probably heard of us then?"

"And you are?" Kitsune asked.

"I'm a ranker in the junior lightweight division, Tatsuya Kimura," said the second largest of the three remaining men. He had straight, dark hair and dark brown eyes.

"And I am the Japanese lightweight hope, Masaru Aoki!" The largest of the three men, Aoki wore a light brown afro on his head, as well as an overtly smug grin.

"I'm Ippo Makunouchi," said the smallest of the three. He wore a dark brown mop-top as well as a sincere smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

Kitsune pondered over their names for a moment. "I can't say I've heard of you guys."

Ippo, Kimura and Aoki promptly fell face first out of their chairs.

"Oh well, it can't be helped," Takamura replied dismissively. "Small-fries will always be small-fries."

"Someone needs to mash his face in one of these days," Aoki muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, knock him off his pedestal," Kimura added.

"Now, now," Ippo said with a chuckle. "You don't mean that." But Aoki and Kimura just stared at him, snorting derisively.

"You belong over there with him, Ippo," Aoki growled. Kimura nodded in approval.

"What are you talking about, guys?" Ippo asked meekly.

"Aren't you undefeated, too?" Kimura snapped.

Ippo laughed heartily. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I am 7-0, after all!"

"YOU GO STRAIGHT TO HELL, IPPO!" Aoki and Kimura snarled.

"Um, excuse me?" Shinobu asked, trying to get the attention of Kimura and Aoki. They stopped dead in their tracks, their heads turning in the direction of the angelic voice they heard.

Kimura's jaw nearly hit the table. "So cute," he spat out despite himself.

Naru stepped next to Shinobu. "She's far too young for you, so stop your ogling."

Kimura and Ippo turned red in the face. "This is heaven," Kimura cackled in glee. Ippo nodded in approval. "Hey, don't you have someone waiting for you at home, Ippo?" Kimura asked suspiciously.

Ippo sighed heavily. "I've told you a million times. I'm not dating Kumi-san!"

Aoki leaned over to Kimura. "Who mentioned Kumi-chan?"

"I sure didn't," Kimura responded to his long-time friend.

"At long last! Ippo reveals his love for Kumi-chan," Takamura declared, slapping Ippo on the back. Hard.

Ippo yelped in pain before hanging his head. There was no point in trying to argue with those three. It only led to more trouble than it was worth.

Motoko cleared her throat loudly, getting the attention of the men seated at the table. "Anyway, can I take your orders?"

Keitaro fired up the burners on the stovetop, cursing his horrible luck. At least he was in the back, and not in plain sight of them. But the thought of the other girls, especially Naru, hanging all over them would not leave his mind. He imagined that he would storm into the dining area and confront the men, but the resulting beat-down he would receive made him think better of it. He had no choice but to treat them as he would any other customer.

"Order in!" Naru cheerfully exclaimed, pushing the ticket through the window.

Naru's expression and tone of her voice made Keitaro's heart sink even further. With a forlorn sigh, he glanced at the ticket, ready to begin his work. He stopped in his tracks, looking more closely at the ticket. His jaw dropped as he saw notations for just about every item on the menu.

"Narusegawa?" Keitaro called out, his voice rising in panic.

"Yeah?" Naru asked, turning back towards Keitaro.

"They want everything on this?" Keitaro asked, pointing a shaky finger at the ticket.

"Uhn," Naru affirmed with a nod, and then rejoined the others at the table.

Keitaro gnashed his teeth in frustration, crumpling the paper ticket in his hand as he made a tight fist. Sounds of raucous laughter reached Keitaro's ears from the front. Keitaro blinked, releasing his death-grip on the order ticket. "Here I go then," he said to the walls, and went about his work.

Thirty minutes later, Keitaro was still dashing about the kitchen, preparing yet another of the many dishes. He lifted another complete concoction onto the windowsill and rang the bell sitting right next to it, alerting those up front that an order was up. The only time his hands were not moving was when he was wiping the sweat from his brow, which was becoming more often.

Some time later, Keitaro, with wobbly, weary hands, gingerly lifted the final item on the list and placed it carefully on the counter. With the last of his strength, his hand fell on the bell and his exhausted body slumped to the floor.

"Well done, Urashima," Motoko said stoically, rushing the final dish out to the table.

Keitaro raised his arm, giving a thumbs-up. "I'm just gonna rest here for a while," he said with a shaky, wavering voice.

Meanwhile, back at the table, the three boxers were still stuffing their faces. "The last meal before weight management really is the best," Aoki noted between bites of rice.

Takamura snorted derisively, nearly spraying Shinobu with tea from his nose. "Hell no. The meal after the weigh-in beats the crap out of this."

Kimura glanced sideways at Ippo, who was content with sitting back and enjoying having a full stomach. "That bastard has no idea the kind of hell we go through. I hate that he is a natural featherweight."

The girls continued to dote over the three men until they finally finished eating. Takamura stood up, patting his rock-hard stomach with his hand. "That was one hell of a meal," he announced. "I sure would like to meet the chef."

In the kitchen, Keitaro's ears perked up, and with a jolt of adrenaline, he leapt to his feet. He listened intently to the conversation coming from the front.

"There's only one person working back there you say, Naru-san?" Ippo asked. Naru nodded with a smile. "Amazing! I didn't think there was anyone on earth that could work that fast. I'd sure like to meet that person too."

Sweat began to form on Keitaro's face. He gulped nervously.

"I'm a chef myself," Aoki explained. "It always feels good when happy customers thank me directly."

Sweat was pouring down Keitaro's head. He pulled at his collar, and a billow of steam shot from underneath it.

"Would one of you ladies mind bringing him out to meet us?" Kimura asked.

Keitaro's teeth began to chatter, his eyes darting around but finding no avenue of escape. Before he could react to her presence, Naru entered through the swinging door and nabbed Keitaro by the sleeve. "Narusegawa, what are you doing? Let me go," he protested, but he was caught fast.

"The customers want to thank you, so get out here," Naru explained, dragging Keitaro towards the door.

"That's really not necessary," Keitaro cried out, trying desperately to pull himself free.

"What's with you, Keitaro? It's not like you to reject people that want to compliment you. Just deal with it!" Naru growled, forcing Keitaro through the portal.

Keitaro stumbled over a chair, nearly falling flat on his face. When he recovered, he lifted his face and leapt backwards in panic. He was face-to-chest with Takamura, who was standing only inches away from him. In his haste, Keitaro nearly fumbled into Naru, who had to side step to avoid him.

"Sorry, he's a bit of a klutz," Kitsune apologized.

Keitaro found his balance, and bowed low at the waist, trying to hide his face. "THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR VISITING OUR HUMBLE TEAHOUSE," he shrieked in gushing politeness.

"No, thank you for serving us after hours," Ippo said, returning Keitaro's bow.

"Thanks a lot for the great food," Aoki said with a cock-eyed grin.

"Yeah, your dishes are something else. Much better than someone we kn-oof," Kimura said, but was cut off by Aoki's sharp elbow to his ribs.

Takamura just stood there like a statue, with his arms folded over his chest and a grim look on his face. "You!" he exclaimed.

Keitaro snapped to attention, forgetting he was trying to hide himself. When he realized the hulking man had gotten a good look at him, he tried to turn away, but something in the man's booming voice stopped him cold.

"You were the one standing outside our gym the other day, weren't you?" Takamura growled.

Keitaro started to backpedal. "Yeah, well, you see, the thing is…thank you for coming!" Keitaro tried to bolt, but Takamura lashed out with lightning speed and grabbed Keitaro smartly by the collar. Takamura pulled Keitaro closer to him. Keitaro's feet were barely touching the floor.

"Whom do you work for? I know you were spying on us." Takamura snarled.

Keitaro's upper body was frozen in place and his legs were flailing about, trying to find the ground underneath them. The Hinata tenants were equally shocked at this turn of events, but none could find the courage to help their landlord. They just gazed at the situation, covering their gaping mouths with their hands.

Kimura and Aoki joined in the interrogation. "So this is the guy Takamura-san was talking about?"

"Trying to find my weakness are you?"

"You'll never discover my secret attack!"

"Tell your boss to go to hell, if you make it back in one piece, that is."

"It's a misunderstanding," Keitaro wailed. "I am not working for anyone! I run an all-girls dormitory at Hinata Hot Springs! I don't know the first thing about boxing! I don't know what you are talking about!"

Takamura, hearing the sound of an "all-girls dormitory", loosed his grip on Keitaro's shirt. Keitaro crashed to the ground on his rump. Naru and Shinobu helped him back to his feet.

"I'm sure whatever happened, it's a mistake," Motoko explained calmly. "He doesn't have the heart to do anything that sneaky."

Keitaro shot a dirty glare in Motoko's direction, but she ignored him.

"She's right," Naru said, seconding Motoko's explanation. "Keitaro is the last person anyone would trust to not get caught like that."

"He's a klutz," Kitsune said matter-of-factly.

"Baka Keitaro!" Su cheered.

"Um, Urashima-senpai may be a little clumsy, but he's also not the type of person that would do something so devious," Shinobu said meekly.

Tears poured down Keitaro's cheeks. _"Thank you, Shinobu-chan. At least you didn't insult me too badly."_

Like the sway of a pendulum, Takamura's scowl swung into a hearty grin. He threw his bulging arm around Keitaro's shoulder, giving him a violent squeeze. "You manage a dorm that all these ladies live in? You lucky little bastard." Takamura ruffled Keitaro's hair, leaving it disheveled.

"Sorry about that," Aoki said.

"We can't trust anyone so close to our matches," Kimura explained.

"You guys shouldn't have over-reacted in the first place," Ippo muttered flatly.

With the mood lightened, the four boxers at last paid their bill, including a hefty tip for each of the girls. Keitaro ushered the men out the front door, while the ladies finished cleaning the dining hall. Keitaro watched them stretch their legs out before they ran back to their beach gym.

Something pulled at Keitaro's heart as he watched them. He could not quite place what it was, but he could not ignore it. Just before the boxers decided to leave, Keitaro called out: "Excuse me, Ippo-san?"

"Yes, Keitaro-san?" Ippo returned.

"Um, how do I say this…er…boxing…does it give you confidence?"

Ippo beamed. "Yes, it does."

"How can I become more confident?" Keitaro asked, his head hanging towards the sand beneath him.

"Ippo, we're leaving," Takamura called out, jogging in place.

"I'll be right there," Ippo yelled back, waving at his friends as they began to dash across the beach. Ippo turned back to Keitaro and asked sympathetically, "Are you being bullied, Keitaro-san?"

Keitaro let out a nervous laugh, glancing in the direction of the teashop. "You could say that," he admitted.

"I was bullied once too," Ippo said, placing a hand on Keitaro's shoulder.

Keitaro looked up in shock. "You too?" Ippo nodded without a hint of shame. "Impossible. I can tell just by looking at you how strong you are. The way you move in the ring. There's no way anyone would push you around like that if they saw that."

"It's true," Ippo said. "Every day, the same group of delinquents would harass me for no reason. But now, the leader of that group is one of my very best friends!"

"What did you do about it? Did you learn boxing and then beat them up?" Keitaro asked, his voice rising in joy.

Ippo shook his head, "No, nothing like that. I just wanted to be strong. I still do. I want to know what being strong feels like."

Keitaro's eyes widened. This strong man in front of him has a very similar goal as him. Ippo wants to be strong. Keitaro wants to be confident. Keitaro was sure this was no coincidence.

"Can I do it? Boxing?" Keitaro asked sheepishly. He was afraid of the obvious answer. "Would it make me feel more confident?" He had to ask though. He had to know for sure. And a true pro-boxer would know the real answer.

Ippo suddenly got a determined look on his face. He made a fist and brought it up to his face. "Of course you can," he said resolutely. "If I can do it, anyone can."

"Really?" Keitaro asked, his vision becoming clouded. Tears were welling up beyond his control.

Ippo nodded curtly. He began to reach into his sweat jacket pocket when Keitaro asked, "What do I need to do?" Ippo pulled a worn, crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Keitaro. "What is this?" Keitaro asked as he unfolded the old paper.

Listed on the paper was a list of exercises: sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, running, stretching, and other strenuous activities. "Do that everyday," Ippo said bluntly.

"All of this?" Keitaro asked incredulously. Ippo nodded with a smile. "But this is so much, there's no way I would be able to do all of this even one time!"

"Boxing isn't easy, Keitaro-san. If you can't even do this much, you can forget about everything else."

Keitaro, realizing how quickly he could be shaken, gritted his teeth in frustration at himself. "Alright, I'll do it. Everyday."

"In six months, call the number listed at the bottom. Then we'll see about making you a member of my gym."

Keitaro's mind began to panic. _"Six months! Doing this everyday for six months? I'll die!"_ However, Keitaro's face remained stoic. He gave one curt nod to Ippo.

Ippo could see a faint green light shining in Keitaro's eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a smile crept upon his face. "I know you will do it, Keitaro-san." Ippo reached his right hand out, and Keitaro took it with his own.

After shaking hands, Ippo waved goodbye to his new, spectacled friend. "Do your best, Keitaro-san," Ippo shouted as he ran in the direction of the other three boxers.

"I will!" Keitaro gazed at the workout regiment in his hand. He could feel the adrenaline begin to pump through his veins. His pulse began to race, and his breathing quickened. He clenched his fists and raised them over his head. "I will do it!" Keitaro yelled into the sky.

"Keitaro!" Naru boomed from inside the teahouse. "Shut up and get your ass in here! You aren't getting away with not helping!"

"Y-yeah," Keitaro timidly cried out, pushing his regimen into his pocket. After one last glance into the evening sky, Keitaro walked back into the teahouse, daydreaming about what his new life might bring.

* * *

Next Time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro and pain become best of friends, as he tries desperately to keep his promise with himself. Keitaro tries his best to keep his new regimen a secret, but we all know that secrets are near impossible to keep at Hinata Sou.


	3. Feel the Burn

Disclaimer: On Chapter 1

Hajime no Keitaro: Feel the Burn

It had been nearly two months since that fateful evening when Keitaro, veiled in the morning twilight, panted and wheezed as he dashed up the final furlong of his morning run: Ascending the stairs leading from town to Hinata Inn. The searing pain in his lungs was rivaled only by the pure agony in his legs. However, he had become accustomed to this feeling, and to his brain it felt like nothing more than an icy numbness.

Regardless, Keitaro's pace slowed quickly at the last 3 flights of stairs, and he had to drag himself up the last five steps. He collapsed in a heap, rolling himself onto his back, breathing faster than a Saint Bernard during a summer day in Death Valley. His legs trembled beyond his control, sweat flowed freely from every open pore on his body, and Keitaro wavered between consciousness and oblivion.

And the morning was just getting started. After resting for five minutes, Keitaro pulled his unsteady frame upright and carefully unlocked the front door to the inn, poking his head through the portal. Seeing that the coast was clear, Keitaro pulled the door closed behind him, and plopped down unceremoniously on the hardwood floor by the door. A sharp gasp escaped from Keitaro's mouth as he pulled off his shoes. He pulled the socks off of his feet gingerly, and he grimaced at his unsightly feet, as the bottoms were covered in fresh and half-healed blisters.

Keitaro carefully pulled his slippers onto his feet before pushing himself erect once more. He padded across the common room to the stairs and cursed the ache in his legs as he ascended them one at a time. He swore he could hear the stairs laughing at him as he leaned onto the guardrail for support after his knees buckled. But he pressed on, finally reaching the subsequent floor after what seemed like an eternity.

With his goal in sight, Keitaro mustered the last of his strength and meandered his way towards his room. As he pulled open the door to his room, he saw a pair of feet poking out of the door of room 205. One foot was clad in a slipper, while the other slipper lay in the middle of the floor, leaving its owner naked.

Keitaro let out a little whine, closing his door and dragging himself in the direction of the feet. He already knew what happened: Kitsune had more than a few too many and once again failed to make it back to her room last night. "A man's work is never done," he thought to himself as he knelt before the snoring lush.

Keitaro harrumphed as he lifted Kitsune's limp body into his arms, shuffling past the empty bottles of unknown liquor towards her futon. Kitsune's eyes half-opened and she turned her head to Keitaro, who noticed the movement. "Good morning," Keitaro said softly.

"Sorry about this," Kitsune croaked, her head spinning like a top.

"It's not a problem. It's my job after all," Keitaro responded, kicking another bottle out of his way instead of moving around it.

Kitsune lifted her arm, playfully slapping Keitaro lightly on the cheek a few times. "You're a good kid," she mumbled.

Keitaro chuckled, dropping Kitsune carefully onto her futon. He let himself out of her room, slowly shutting the door behind him. Kitsune pulled her blanket over herself, turning to one side to get comfortable. She let out a moan as she snuggled into a comfortable position. A few seconds later, Kitsune started, her eyes snapping open.

Keitaro pulled the door to his room shut behind him, whispering a silent prayer of thanks for being able to make it there. For the next hour, Keitaro went to work on his strength training exercises. Three hundred push-ups, five hundred sit-ups, two hundred leg squats, and two hundred lunges later, Keitaro pulled out his secret stash of adjustable dumbbells. With those he managed to finish his full regimen of two hundred repetitions each of bicep curls, triceps extensions, overhead press, bent-over row, and a myriad of assorted shoulder exercises.

"198," Keitaro murmured out loud, straining against the weights in his hands. "199…200!" he exclaimed in relief, dropping the weights to the floor, his arms completely exhausted. His heart leapt out of his chest as the weights clanged loudly against the floorboards. Keitaro froze in place and gazed at the ceiling. Hearing loud footsteps approaching the hole just over his head, Keitaro hurried to put his weights away, ignoring the wracking pain in his body.

Naru, having been woken up startled for the third time this week, stormed angrily to where her Liddo-kun doll was placed on a board covering the hole in her floor. She slid the board out of the way with a grunt and lowered her head through the portal. "What the hell is doing on down here?" she asked sleepily.

Keitaro played the fool flawlessly. "Oh, good morning, Narusegawa. Sorry about waking you up. I was cleaning up my room here and I tripped and fell." Keitaro bonked himself on the side of his head for emphasis.

Naru squinted with already only half-opened eyes. "At least you weren't doing anything perverted, for once." She muttered "idiot" before removing her head from the opening and sliding the board back over the hole.

Keitaro let out a tremendous sigh of relief, when a sharp pain shot up his back. He hunched over and winced, silently muttering expletives at himself. The physical part of this routine was hard enough. But keeping this enormous lifestyle change a secret from some of the nosiest females God put on His Earth was equally taxing on him.

They wouldn't understand. They would think it was just another fruitless attempt for Keitaro to improve himself. After all, he had failed to enter Tokyo University three years in a row. Of course they would ridicule him. There were times he ridiculed himself for trying to reach something that seemed well beyond him.

Later that morning, Keitaro sat with his tenants in the dining room, enjoying a morning respite. He glanced at each of the girls, pondering exactly what would happen if they found out what he was up to.

Keitaro was sure Su would not care less about what he did, as long as it did not interfere with play-time, or stop her from using him as a guinea pig in her oft-botched experiments. He grinned inwardly at the thought of finally being able to out-run her latest version of Mecha-Tama.

Turning his head, Keitaro looked at Kitsune, who had her face buried in her plate. She was only picking at her food, obviously still under the effects of her latest hangover. Keitaro knew she would support him, but only as far as she stood to profit from it somehow. He shuddered at the thought of her proposing to be his promoter.

Shinobu placed a glass of orange juice next to Keitaro's plate. He shifted his vision up to her, and she smiled at him before turning back to the kitchen. Keitaro watched her walk away, thinking how she would probably get this amusingly serious look on her face and tell him to do his best. The thought brought a smile to his face.

Keitaro's smile vanished when his eyes met Motoko. He was deathly afraid of what she might think. Would she consider him a threat if he were able to defend himself? Would she look upon him with praise for trying to mold himself into a better person? Would she laugh at him, calling his effort futile? These questions and more swam through his briny, thought-saturated brain.

Keitaro's head was still swimming when he glanced over at Naru, who was flipping through a vocabulary cheat-sheet. His stomach turned when he thought about her disapproving, or worse yet, laughing in his face if she found out. If he had to pick just one reason why he was doing this, it would be her. Sure, he was doing it to improve himself, but it was not for his own benefit. He wanted to show Naru, as well as everyone else living in the inn, that he was able to accomplish anything he set his mind to. Tokyo U and boxing had become parallel goals: one to prove himself mentally, the other physically.

Keitaro inhaled his meal, even finishing before the bottomless pit known as Su. Not wasting any time, Keitaro excused himself, leaving a room full of bewildered women behind as he went through the door to the kitchen.

"Is it just me, or does it seem like he's always in a hurry lately?" Naru pondered aloud between bites.

"I do not know," Motoko answered evenly. "I don't keep tabs on that man."

Several grains of rice flew out of Kitsune's mouth in reaction to Motoko's response. "You could have fooled me," she murmured. Motoko shot the fox a particularly nasty look, prompting Kitsune to say no further.

Shinobu chewed and swallowed before adding her two cents. "I noticed that Urashima-sempai is eating a lot more. He used to only have one serving and still leave some on his plate. Now he eats two servings at every meal, and finishes all of it."

Su mentioned that Shinobu's cooking might have improved, causing Shinobu's face to color over. But Motoko shot down that theory. "If that were the case, Su-chan, he would have gained a significant amount of weight. It doesn't appear that way at all. In fact, he might have even lost weight recently."

Kitsune grinned at Motoko, playfully elbowing her in the ribs. "Not keeping tabs on him, huh?"

Now it was Motoko's turn to try to hide the redness in her cheeks. "I'm pretty good at telling these kinds of things by just glancing at people," Motoko lied.

Kitsune considered mentioning what happened earlier that morning, but deciding against playing her cards so early. She had an idea, but wanted to be sure before starting any silly rumors. Besides, it would be fun to see Keitaro squirm if she was right.

"Anyway," Naru said, trying to get the conversation back on topic, "he seems to be spending a lot of his time in his room studying. And it's showing, too. He finishes faster than he used to, bothers me with stupid questions a lot less, and tends to be more correct on his answers than he normally is."

"So maybe all that food is going to his brain?" Su offered as an explanation.

A pall of silence befell those still left at the table, the only sounds being chopsticks clanging against the china and other sounds normally associated with eating. However, if one could hear thoughts, that person would be overwhelmed. No other sounds broke the silence during the meal.

"WARNING! Keitaro in hot spring! WARNING!" Keitaro's makeshift sign, this time printed in bold red, would hopefully ward off any potential intruders this time. The last time Keitaro tried using the hot spring to help soothe his aching muscles, Motoko somehow wandered in wearing nothing but a hair tie to keep her long black locks from getting wet. Although the blunder was not his own (he posted a sign, but it was not nearly as colorful as the one posted now), he was still launched into the ocean with her _Zanganken_ attack.

Keitaro was not in the hot springs today to relax. He stood in the deepest part of the water, which came up to the middle of his chest. He took several deep breaths and bent at the knees, preparing to do his exercise. He gulped in a deep breath before crouching into the water, completely submerged. When his thigh was parallel to the ground beneath his feet, he exploded upwards from his feet, jumping out of the water up to his waist. "One!" Keitaro exclaimed when he reached the apex of his jump. He stole a quick breath of air before plunging back into the warm depths of the water, repeating the motion.

"198…199…200!" Keitaro completed the full set of underwater squats, gasping for air as his knees buckled beneath him. He lay back, letting his body float atop the pool of water. He closed his eyes, listening only to the sound of his labored breathing. Within several minutes, his breathing slowed to a normal pace, and the warmth of the water soothed his fatigue.

Keitaro opened his eyes, watching a small cloud pass through the otherwise clear afternoon sky. It reminded him somewhat of himself. It was all by itself, and could only move where the wind allowed it. It searched for meaning in its existence; to become one with another cloud, and pour out its precipitation onto the world, which would in turn create other clouds, and continue the cycle.

Keitaro noted how fragile the cloud was. Pieces of it broke off, scattering in different directions. But the whole mass never broke. It coalesced into different shapes, but remained in one piece, moving towards the horizon. Keitaro silently wished that cloud would somehow turn on its heel, and move against the wind. However, it moved on, and the cloud was soon out of sight.

"Enough lollygagging for me," Keitaro murmured aloud, swimming to the edge of the hot spring. He sat at the edge, letting his feet and calves soak in the water as he dried himself with a towel. Confident he could stand again without falling over, Keitaro lifted himself back to his feet and entered the inn.

Keitaro pulled his warning sign from the door leading to the hot spring, letting a smile creep onto his face. For once, he was able to do his exercise without bring interrupted. He tossed his towel over his shoulder and folded the warning paper in half, taking care not to damage it. If it worked once, it should work again.

Keitaro shuffled through to the common room, where Kitsune was. She was not lounging like usual, however. She sat up straight, with an uncharacteristically serious countenance. As Keitaro turned the corner into the room, Kitsune, without looking in Keitaro's direction, inquired, "Would you mind telling me exactly what you've been doing lately?"

Keitaro, noticing Kitsune a little too late, reared back in surprise. He realized she had not looked at him yet, so he tried to play the fool. "Kitsune-san! I didn't see you there. What's up?"

"Why do you always insist on playing dumb with me, Keitaro? I'd think you would know by now, after all this time, that you can't lie to me."

Keitaro was truly dumbfounded. "Honestly, Kitsune-san, I have no idea what you are talking about."

Kitsune stood up and approached Keitaro. The stern look on her face began to make Keitaro nervous. She grabbed at the towel lying on Keitaro's shoulder, and Keitaro instinctively grabbed at it. "What are you doing?" Keitaro asked, his voice raising half an octave.

"Let go, Urashima!" Kitsune demanded.

Keitaro released his grip on the towel, if for any reason out of pure shock. Kitsune never called him by his surname. That was reserved for those that treated him more coldly. Someone like Motoko. As Kitsune pulled the towel off of his arm, Keitaro asked with a pained voice, "Why are you doing this?"

Kitsune got her first good look at Keitaro and her jaw dropped. This was not lost on Keitaro either, as he asked her, "What's the matter?"

"Just as I suspected." Kitsune affirmed aloud.

"What is it, already? Spit it out!" Keitaro exclaimed.

"Come with me," Kitsune ordered, grabbing Keitaro firmly by the waistband of his swim trunks and pulling him with her as she walked back in the direction Keitaro came from.

Keitaro shrieked. "Let me go, already! You are exposing me to the world! What if someone else sees?" But he could not release Kitsune's death grip on his shorts. He could only go for the ride.

Kitsune tossed open the door leading to the hot springs. She pulled Keitaro through the portal and sauntered towards the dressing room adjacent to the main building. "Why are you taking me in here, Kitsune? That's the girls' dressing room!"

"Just shut up already and get in here," Kitsune barked, and Keitaro could do nothing to protest against the determined woman. She dragged Keitaro the last few steps and pointed at a full-length mirror on the far side of the dressing room. "Look at yourself!"

Keitaro adjusted his glasses and peered at himself through the mirror. As far as he could tell, nothing appeared out of place. "Yeah, what about it? I don't see anything weird."

"What the hell is this then?" Kitsune inquired, tapping Keitaro in the stomach with her fist.

Keitaro looked down at himself at his washboard stomach. "Wait a minute," Keitaro muttered, taking a few steps toward the mirror. He marveled at his image. He had somehow developed six-pack abs, a chiseled chest, and well-defined arms, without noticing.

Keitaro flexed several times, posing in the mirror and poking his fingers into his solid muscles, grinning in amusement over what he had accomplished in a relatively short time. "Are you finished?" Kitsune asked after clearing her throat.

Keitaro stopped what he was doing and turned back around to face Kitsune. "How did you know?" Keitaro asked.

Kitsune had a question of her own. "More importantly than that is how did you do this?"

An hour later, a fully dressed Keitaro sat across from Kitsune in the common room. As Keitaro explained the situation, Kitsune nodded her head as if she knew everything all along. "I knew something was up, but it didn't hit me what it was until this morning."

Keitaro's mind traced back through the day, but couldn't place what Kitsune was referring to. "I don't remember doing anything out of the ordinary this morning, though."

Kitsune leaned forward in her seat, and Keitaro unconsciously did the same. "How much do you weigh now, Keitaro?"

Keitaro thought about it for a moment. "I'd say probably around 130 pounds."

Kitsune groaned, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. "What's the matter?" Keitaro asked.

"Do you remember carrying me to bed this morning?"

Keitaro nodded. "Yeah, but I always do that."

"Was I…heavy at all?"

Keitaro shook his head.

Kitsune sighed. "Well, I double-checked, and I weigh 118. You lifted almost your own body weight without even straining."

Keitaro blinked a few times before shaking his head again. "That's impossible. There's no way you weigh that much."

Kitsune placed a hand in front of Keitaro's face. "Just…trust me, okay? I don't want to believe I weigh almost as much as you either. But I do."

"But I don't understand. How could I not have noticed these results? You would think I would know I could pick you up so easily."

Kitsune plopped backwards against the couch's back cushion. "My guess is that, since you are doing…that…all the time, you just never noticed."

"I think I get it," Keitaro nodded. He thought about his new appearance. It obviously did not appear out of nowhere. It took time. But he kept himself so busy with managerial duties, studying, and his workouts, he never noticed his progress. "The more you do things, the easier it gets. I just didn't notice because I do it almost every day."

Kitsune's cheeks colored. For probably the first time, she felt genuinely embarrassed about what she put Keitaro through. Always taking care of her. Making sure she was put in bed morning after morning after her alcoholic binges. "Sorry about that." Kitsune apologized weakly.

Keitaro smiled. "Like I said before, it's my duty as manager, after all."

Kitsune chuckled. "Some things never change about you, do they?"

Ignoring Kitsune's rhetorical question, Keitaro suddenly became serious. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you keep this a secret from the others?"

Kitsune pondered over Keitaro's question. Keitaro gulped nervously. A devilish grin appeared on Kitsune's face. Keitaro frowned knowingly. "What do you want?" Keitaro asked dolefully.

"I'll get you my list later," Kitsune said nonchalantly. "But for now, your secret is safe with me."

Keitaro stood up. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem."

"I've got some other things to do, so…"

Kitsune waved Keitaro off dismissively. "Then you better get to it." As Keitaro walked towards the stairs, Kitsune called out to him. Keitaro turned his head back in her direction. "You look good. Keep it up."

"I will," Keitaro returned, unable to hide his smile. He ran up the stairs, his spirit bolstered with newfound energy.

"Things are gonna get interesting from here on," Kitsune said alout to no one, stretching her body out on the sofa. She lied down, wondering what exactly possessed Keitaro to do such a thing. Before she could find an answer, she fell asleep, dreaming of the mountain of sake she would extort from her landlord.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: You reap what you have sown, and Keitaro's seeds have begun to sprout. What kind of harvest can we expect for the ronin? And while his boxing dreams remain veiled in secrecy, the winds of change become too obvious to remain hidden for much longer. Can Keitaro finish what he started? Find out next time!

Author's Note: Thank you all for the feedback! And happy holidays to you all! Thanks for reading.


	4. Training Complete!

Hajime no Keitaro: Training Complete!

Keitaro stepped onto his scale, peering intently at the LCD display as it calculated his current weight. After flashing zeroes several times, the scale displayed a number. "58 kilograms?" Keitaro muttered, more than a little shocked. He had expected to gain some weight during his process, but after a little under six months, he had lost five full kilograms from his already slim frame.

Not that Keitaro was complaining, however. He stepped in front of his mirror he purchased soon after his run-in with Kitsune and her untimely discovery of his activities. Although it had cost him a fortune to keep everything on the down low, Kitsune had done just that. Keitaro was growing tired of the charade. More importantly, he was also running out of hush money. As he stretched and flexed in front of his mirror, he grinned at the thought of walking around the inn with just a pair of shorts on, showing off his newly toned body without caring what any of the girls living there would think.

Pulling his pants up over his legs, Keitaro realized that he might not have any choice but to do just that. His clothes were fitting precariously loose due to his weight loss. Keitaro pulled at the waist of his denim pants, and he was able to fit his arm through the gap. He shook his head at how bizarre it felt.

Just as Keitaro finished pulling a long-sleeved shirt over his head, which also felt baggy on him, a shuffling sound from above alerted Keitaro to Naru's presence. He turned in time to see Naru's hair poke through the jagged hole above him, and her head soon followed. "Are you coming, or what?" Naru asked.

"I'll be right up," Keitaro answered, adjusting his glasses and running a hand through his hair.

"Alright, hurry it up then. We're not going to wait all night for you," Naru said, lifting her head back into her room and sliding the board back over the gap. She stood up with a sigh, shuffling back to her heated table.

Naru sat on her pillow seat, pulling the comforter of the _kotatsu_ table over her legs. "He'll be right up."

Mutsumi Otohime clapped her hands. "I'm so glad we are able to study together like this. It's been far too long since we've seen each other. How have you two been lately? Getting along well?"

Naru balked at Mutsumi's probing questions. "We don't really 'get along', if that's what you mean. We study together. There's really not much else going on between us."

Mutsumi pouted. "Still no confession then, I suppose."

Naru chuckled nervously. This woman just would not quit. Thankfully for Naru, two sharp knocks at her door promptly changed the atmosphere. "Come in!" Naru exclaimed, probably a little too quickly.

Keitaro slid the door open with his foot, as his hands were full of books. He noticed the girl sitting across from Naru at the table right away. "Ah, Mutsumi-san!"

Mutsumi pulled herself to her feet and skipped over to Keitaro, who had turned to close the door behind him. When he turned back around, Mutsumi threw her arms around his neck in a warm embrace. Keitaro's books fell to the floor in a heap, scattering across the floor.

Keitaro was knocked off balance by Mutsumi's sudden attack, and he nearly ended up falling on his hind side with Mutsumi on top of him. He recovered well enough, and stole a glance over at Naru, who appeared to be trying to ignore what was going on by writing in a journal, which turned out to be furious doodling. He patted Mutsumi carefully on the back, trying to return her hug while at the same time letting her know her public display of affection was more than a little inappropriate given the circumstances.

Mutsumi finally released her grip on Keitaro. Keitaro noticed Mutsumi's puzzled look as she grabbed at his arms, giving them a few inquisitive squeezes. Keitaro pulled her hands away from him and pulled her over to the table. "It's nice to see you again!" he said, trying to deter her attention. "How have you been?" he asked, motioning Mutsumi to sit before picking up his books.

"I'm doing just fine," Mutsumi replied, shivering slightly as she scooted back under the table. "You look nice."

The way Mutsumi emphasized the word "nice" rang in Keitaro's mind. A blush covered Keitaro's face as he dropped his books on the floor next to his seat.

Mutsumi turned to Naru. "Doesn't he look really nice?"

Without looking up, Naru retorted, "I already told you, I don't look at him like that."

Keitaro frowned visibly, thinking that she did not have to talk as if he were not there. However, Naru stole a glance at him while he flipped through the pages of his literature text. "He doesn't look bad though."

Keitaro looked up at Naru just in time for her to wink at him with a slight grin before turning her attention back onto reading about the rise of the Ottoman Empire.

Keitaro beamed at Naru when Mutsumi added. "You look like you've lost some weight, Urashima-kun. Have you been working out?"

"Ye-uhh," Keitaro caught himself. He nearly let the cat out of the bag, and with a bit of regret in his voice, lied, "No, not really."

Naru chuckled under her breath. "Keitaro working out? That sure would be a sight…an exercise in futility."

Mutsumi giggled at Naru's joke. Even Keitaro chuckled a bit. True enough, when he first began his regimen, he was worse than pathetic. If anyone had seen his pitiable first attempt at chin-ups, he would have been required to commit ritual suicide to retain his family's honor. But he knew she would be singing a different tune if she were to see him now.

Their pre-study conversation out of the way, the three ronins' study session moved into second gear: quiet efficiency. The only sounds breaking their silence were pages turning, Mutsumi humming random tunes under her breath, and the occasional sigh from one of the study partners.

Eventually, Naru leaned back, stretching her arms over her head. She checked the time on her watch. Already nearly two hours had passed and Keitaro had yet to ask her any questions. It was curious, so she leaned over to his side of the table and peered at what he was writing in his notebook. "You doing okay over there?" she asked.

Keitaro looked up at Naru, pulling his hands away from the desk. "I think so," he said, "but this pre-calculus is pretty hard. Mind checking my answers for me?"

"Sure," Naru said, picking up the notebook and flipping back several pages. She clicked her mechanical pencil on the table, using it as a guide to find any mistakes in Keitaro's arithmetic. When she finished, she found only two very minor mistakes. He transposed a digit on one solution and forgot to round to the nearest hundredth on another.

"This is…" Naru paused, and Keitaro shifted in his seat nervously. "This is all very good! You got nearly everything on this right!"

"You must be kidding," Keitaro concluded, taking the notebook back from Naru. He looked at her markings. "Oh, I see what I did there. Have to follow the instructions just right."

"It looks like Narusegawa-san's tutoring is starting to pay off for you, Urashima-kun," Mutsumi said.

Keitaro thanked Naru for all of her help, and Naru accepted, but she could not help but think it was not all her. Keitaro was beginning to learn and recall on his own. She had little to do with his recent success.

Another two hours later, the three decided to call it an evening. Naru and Keitaro escorted Mutsumi to the exit, and they exchanged goodbyes. After Mutsumi departed, Keitaro closed the door and locked it, musing, "It's nice seeing her again, isn't it?"

Naru exhaled sharply. "Why didn't you just ask her out then?"

"I didn't mean like that," Keitaro explained. "She just reminded me of the good times we had in Kyoto. It was a fun trip, after all, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Naru replied, thinking about their serendipitous reunion halfway across Japan. "I never thought there would be a female version of you, though."

Keitaro and Naru giggled at each other when there was a light knock at the front door of the inn. "Who could it be at this hour?" Keitaro asked, unbolting the door and pulling it open.

"I'm sorry," the familiar lady on the other side of the door apologized. "I forgot that I don't have anywhere to stay in town. Can I stay here?" Keitaro and Naru crashed to the ground head first, their feet twitching as they dangled in the air.

After getting Mutsumi settled into room 303, Keitaro was back in his own room, catching up on his evening push-ups. His torso moved up and down gracefully, even after doing 100. Keitaro wore a grimace on his face as he completed the final twenty. After finishing, Keitaro moved to his knees and stretched his arms out, first one then the other. Pulling a notebook from a drawer in his desk, Keitaro made a few marks in it with the pencil affixed to it.

"So that's it," Keitaro said aloud to himself. Tomorrow would be six months to the day after an unassuming man who turned out to be a professional boxer changed his fate. Keitaro had long since memorized the phone number he was to call to reach Kamogawa gym. He could not wait to get there and show them all what he could do.

Keitaro put his notebook back in his desk, grabbed his towel from atop his folded-up futon and walked out of his room. After such a long day, he wanted nothing more than to soak in his tub for a while and meditate.

Stifling a yawn, Keitaro turned the corner to the hallway leading to his designated tub when he collided with something soft. Keitaro yelped in pain and clutched at his nose before seeing Motoko lying on the ground before him, rubbing her sore tailbone.

"Aah, I'm such a klutz!" Keitaro yelled out in fear and frustration. "Here, let me help you up!" Keitaro reached out with his right arm to help the girl up. Motoko, although annoyed that in such a large inn Keitaro still somehow managed to literally knock her down, decided to give him the benefit of the doubt this time. After all, at least he didn't grab her breast or behind.

"It-it's alright," Motoko said with some chagrin. She took Keitaro's hand and Keitaro pulled her to her feet with little effort, which left Motoko shocked. Motoko peered at Keitaro's arm and, while he was wearing a t-shirt, she could clearly see his well-trained bicep and forearm muscles.

"Um, Motoko-chan?" Keitaro asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. Motoko, realizing she was still holding onto his hand, quickly let him go, as her face colored furiously. "Are you okay?" Keitaro asked in concern. "You don't look too well."

Motoko shook her head. "I'm just fine, thank you," she responded, her voice hinting to Keitaro to drop the subject.

"Well, goodnight then," Keitaro said, waving goodbye as he continued down the hall.

Motoko brooded at the manager as he walked away. She could sense something very different about the way he carried himself. Usually when she ran into him, they knocked each other down, but this time, he was the one left standing. She dismissed the thought quickly, however, since the thought of how many times they ran into one another increased her annoyance with the man.

Keitaro languished in the warmth of the tub, watching as the steam rising from the hot water vanished into the cold night sky. Although he was excited about calling the Kamogawa gym tomorrow, the thought of actually doing it made him extremely nervous. Would Ippo even remember him? Would any of them, for that matter? Would the gym owner give him a chance? What would he have to do to get that chance?

Keitaro took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Either way, he thought, he was in the best shape of his life. And regardless of what happened, he would continue his physical training. It was a great stress-reliever, and it made him feel good afterward. The pain of burning and sore muscles made him feel more alive than any time he could remember.

Keitaro peered at his fingers, frowning at the wrinkled tips. He had been in the tub long enough. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist after patting himself over with it. His teeth chattered from the cold as he skipped back to his room as fast as he could. This time, he made it safely, without running into anyone else.

After he got dressed, Keitaro sat in the corner of his room, too restless to sleep, but too tired to do anything else. A familiar nagging in his stomach alerted him soon after that he needed to eat. With nothing else better to do, Keitaro decided to head down to the kitchen for a snack.

With all of the tenants asleep in their rooms, the inn seemed like it was abandoned. Without the sun to illuminate the hallways, everything looked gloomy. Or perhaps everything looked gloomy because it was about time to put Christmas decorations up, and Keitaro simply had not found the time in his schedule to do it. As he reached the kitchen, he resolved to rectify that when he had the opportunity.

Keitaro turned the light on, and peered around the kitchen. Every surface was cleaned to a mirror finish, the sink was empty of dirty dishes, and the china and flatware were meticulously placed in an easily accessible corner for quick serving. Keitaro could not help but smile. If he did not have Shinobu to take care of this room, it would no doubt be a certifiable disaster area.

Keitaro warmed up some of what was left over from dinner that evening and sat at the table to enjoy it. Right after he started eating, the door to the common room swung open, and Naru shuffled through, wearing her pajamas, her mouth gaping wide in a yawn. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes drooped sleepily. "Can't sleep?" Keitaro asked.

Naru was startled momentarily by Keitaro's presence. She gasped slightly and placed a hand over her heart. "Don't scare me like that! And, yes, probably because I didn't eat enough at dinner."

"Yeah, me too." Keitaro knew the feeling. One forgets to eat, or fails to eat enough when one's mind is wrapped up in other things. Naru shuffled past Keitaro, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from a container on the counter and plopped into the seat directly across from him. Breaking her chopsticks open for use, Naru said, "Pass it over," motioning with her hand.

Keitaro shoved the plate of leftovers across the table, and Naru pulled it close. Keitaro watched in amusement as Naru lazily dipped her chopsticks into the food and lifted a bite to her mouth as it hung over the plate. He thought about how cute she looked when she was tired or lazy. She did not care how she looked or what she did. She was truly being herself. His imagination took over from there, and the blood rushed to his head and several other parts of his body when he imagined what she might look like after just waking up in bed.

Although she was anything but alert, Naru's "pervert-sensor" was in perfect working order. She glanced up at Keitaro, who was staring at her with a silly grin on his face. "You're thinking about something perverted again, aren't you?" she asked flatly.

Keitaro shook his head, cursing his overactive imagination. "No! Honestly, it wasn't anything perverted!" To him, it was not perverted. He honestly loved Naru. Of course he was going to think those things about the one he wanted to be with. Besides, seeing Naru appear vulnerable was truly a rare sight for Keitaro to see.

Naru eyed Keitaro warily for a moment, and pushed the half-empty plate of food back in Keitaro's direction. Keitaro pulled the plate to himself and dug in. "You are doing really well with your studies," Naru said offhandedly.

Keitaro snapped his head up. "You think so?"

Naru nodded, but raised a finger. "But remember, study guides and tests are two different beasts." Keitaro nodded while chewing as Naru continued. "You may be doing well now, but under a really stressful environment you may lose focus. You have to be careful of that."

"Narusegawa," Keitaro responded, chewing and swallowing before continuing, "it's late. Why are you lecturing me right now, of all times?"

Naru traced her finger on the table. "I just want you to pass, that's all."

Keitaro smiled at the longhaired woman across from him. "Are you saying you care about me?"

Naru's cheeks burned red. "Don't draw conclusions like that! If you don't pass, I'll be a failure as a tutor."

Keitaro nodded, somewhat disappointed.

"Besides, we made a promise, didn't we? We said we would make it in together this time, right? You need to hold up your end of the bargain."

Keitaro's heart swelled. He looked Naru in the eyes and reaffirmed his promise. "I will." With a grin, he added, "I'll even spit-shake on it if you want me to."

Naru made a disgusted face and tossed her chopsticks at Keitaro. "You're gross!"

Keitaro tried to duck out of the way, but the chopsticks hit him squarely in the chest. He picked the chopsticks out of his lap and put them on the table. "I guess you don't want anymore to eat?" he asked rhetorically.

"I'm gonna go to bed," Naru said, standing back up. "Thanks for the food…and the talk."

"Anytime," Keitaro said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Naru said through a stifled yawn, exiting the room the way she came.

Keitaro let out a heavy sigh. "I love you," he whispered aloud in her direction, but not nearly loud enough for her to hear. He chuckled at himself, knowing he would never have the guts to tell her the truth about his feelings.

Keitaro stood and covered the leftover food and put it back into the refrigerator. As he closed the door to the fridge, he said to himself, "Wait a minute." Keitaro looked at his hands. "What the hell have I spent all this time doing? Was I doing all of this for no reason? What the hell am I thinking?"

Keitaro clenched his hands, turning his fists over to look at them. He could feel something surging inside of his heart. It was the same feeling he had looking at the sunset that night outside of the beach teashop. "I'm not going to be happy with just having a new body," he concluded. "I don't feel any more confident like this. Nothing is different at all!"

Keitaro punched at the air a few times. "I won't take no for an answer. I'll do whatever it takes. I will become a boxer!"

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro gets shown the ropes...the hard way. While he may be able to walk away from a Naru-punch or a rock-splitting sword strike, can Keitaro survive Takamura's punch? What will Kamogawa think about Keitaro's special "talent"? All this and more, next time on Hajime no Keitaro!

Author's Note: I used this chapter to clear some things up. Hopefully it did well enough. Some reviewers seemed to think I had Keitaro gaining all this muscle out of nowhere, when in fact he has lost a considerable amount of weight. This type of training was for Keitaro to define and refine the muscle he already has, not build any new growth. Now he's lean and mean. It's time for him to become a fighting machine now. I'm getting pretty psyched to write the next chapters (I've already written the end of his debut match). Drop me a review and let me know what you think so far! Oh, and thanks for pre-reading, Mike.


	5. Iron Jaw, Iron Will

Hajime no Keitaro: Chapter 5 - Iron Jaw, Iron Will

Keitaro stood in front of a building, gazing up at the sign above the door: "Kamogawa Gym". "So this is it," Keitaro said, steeling his nerves. He clenched his gym bag, filled with his workout sweats, tightly in his right hand. "Here goes nothing," he said, reaching out for the door.

* * *

A week earlier, Keitaro could be found sneaking around Hinata Inn, poking his head around corners and stealing glances into every nook and cranny of the building. At last, confident no one else was in the building with him, he picked up the phone in the common room. Almost unconsciously, he dialed the number that was written on the sheet of paper given to him by Ippo no less than six months ago. He had dialed those numbers countless times before, but only in his imagination. Doing it in real life gave him a strong sense of accomplishment. 

However, that feeling began to turn to dread, then panic as the phone continued to ring for over a minute. At first, Keitaro thought they might be busy and unable to reach the phone. But as he was ought to do, Keitaro began to assume the worst as time dragged on. Maybe the number was incorrect? Maybe it was even intentional? Keitaro began to feel sick to his stomach.

Just as Keitaro was about to hang up, an audible click pierced the monotony of the ringing tone. An unfamiliar but cheery male voice perked up Keitaro's spirits. "Thanks for waiting, this is the Kamogawa Gym. How can I help you?" Now that someone had answered, Keitaro began to panic, unable to respond. "Hello?" the voice asked.

"Um, hi," Keitaro finally sputtered, before realizing how dumb he just sounded. He slapped himself on the forehead, pulling the receiver away from his face. "Get a hold of yourself, Urashima!" he berated himself.

"How can I help you?" the cheery tone in his voice was gone.

"My name is Keitaro Urashima. May I speak with Ippo Makunouchi, please?"

"Just a moment please, let me see if he's available." While Keitaro waited, he could hear the man's muffled yells. "Hey, Ippo-kun! There's some guy named Urashima-something-or-other on the phone for you!"

Another muted voice, this one much more high-pitched, yelled out, "I'll be right there, Yagi-san!"

"He'll be right over," the voice said into the phone directly.

"Thanks a lot," Keitaro said.

"Thanks, Yagi-san. Hello? Urashima-san?" Keitaro heard Ippo's voice, and his heart leapt.

"Yeah, this is Keitaro Urashima. I'm calling as promised."

"I've been waiting for your call, Urashima-san."

"Really?" Keitaro was shocked that Ippo did not only remember his name, but also remembered the promise.

"Of course! Have you been following the regimen?"

"Every day for exactly six months."

"That's great! Do you have the address for the gym?"

Keitaro glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hand. "I'm looking at it right now."

"Okay! Here's what I want you to do: I want you to rest for one week. No sprints, no lifting, nothing more strenuous than a light jog. After that…"

"Wait a minute," Keitaro cut Ippo off. "You mean I can't do any exercise for a whole week?"

"Trust me, you will need the rest," Ippo reassured Keitaro. "After that, one week after tomorrow, come down here and we'll see what you've got."

Keitaro exhaled sharply. "Alright, I'll be there."

"I'm looking forward to it," Ippo said.

Another guttural voice pierced through the phone, reaching Keitaro's ears. "Kid, get your ass back over here right now!"

"Wah, sorry Urashima-san, I've got to go. I'll see you in one week!"

Before Keitaro could respond, the other line was disconnected with an audible click and repeated beeping tones. Keitaro hung his received back onto the holster, wondering what he was going to do with himself for a full week. He had gotten accustomed to the rhythm of daily physical training, and now he suddenly had more free time than he could remember having the previous half-year.

* * *

If it were possible, that week was equally, if not more, mentally agonizing than the first week of performing that grueling regimen. However, it was worth it. As Keitaro pulled open the door to the gym, he felt no strain, soreness, or tension anywhere in his body. His mind was sharp as a razor, and he felt ready to take on the world as he stepped into the gym and shut the door closed behind him. 

Keitaro gazed around at the plain white walls, one of which was covered by a huge mirror. There were several unfamiliar faces, each performing some form of boxing routine: mitt hitting, speed bag, sandbag, shadow boxing. A sturdy but ragged-looking ring sat unused in the very middle of the room.

A short but stout man wearing a shirt and tie with glasses approached Keitaro, who turned to face him. His smile dispelled any worries Keitaro might have had about him. "You must be Keitaro Urashima-kun," the man said.

Keitaro recognized the man's voice. "You're the person I spoke to on the phone last week, right?"

"That's right," the man replied, reaching out with his right hand. Keitaro hastily swapped his bag to his other hand and shook his hand. "I'm the manager of this gym, Haruhiko Yagi. It's nice to meet you, Urashima-kun."

"The pleasure is mine, Yagi-san," Keitaro returned, bowing his head slightly.

Keitaro began to follow Yagi, who had turned to walk slowly through the gym. "This is it," Yagi said in a booming voice over the pounding sounds permeating and echoing off the walls. "It's not much, but it gets the job done."

Yagi gestured at a door tucked near the back of the gym. "There's the locker. Go ahead and head back and get changed. I'll let Ippo-kun know you are here."

Keitaro nodded and bowed respectfully at Yagi before he walked away, disappearing through a door on the other side of the room. Keitaro exhaled nervously and walked through the door to the locker room.

The pungent stench of male sweat and metal made Keitaro wince for a moment after entering the locker room. After blinking away the stinging sensation in his nose, Keitaro peered around at the plain wall of lockers. Some had locks on them, but most did not. Noticing an empty locker in the corner of the room, Keitaro meekly padded across the floor, glancing around to see if there were any others in the locker room with him.

After verifying he was alone, Keitaro changed into his sweats as quickly as possible, stuffed his street clothes into his bag, and locked the bag up. Keitaro exited the locker room, glancing around to see if Yagi had returned with Ippo. Not seeing them anywhere, he found himself an empty space on the floor and began to stretch.

Keitaro's muscles felt somewhat tight and stiff from lack of use the past week, but stretching them out was bliss. Although he was nervous, not knowing exactly what was in store for him, this activity relieved some of that pressure. After rising up from a hamstring stretch, Keitaro heard some commotion on the other side of the gym.

Ippo and the rest of the Kamogawa gang filed out the door Yagi had disappeared into roughly 15 minutes ago. Keitaro's face beamed until he saw Ippo's downtrodden face. He looked pale, as if he had just seen a ghost. Takamura, Kimura, and Aoki were standing behind him with grins on their faces, trying to cheer their kouhai up.

"Did you expect anything less from the amateur world champion?" Takamura asked, placing a hand on Ippo's shoulder.

"Seriously, I could barely see that KO combination in real-time. Had to see it in slow motion to tell what it was," Kimura added.

"If it's any consolation, Ippo," Aoki said, "I'm willing to bet that Date is just as scared to fight Vorg Zangief as you are."

Ippo turned around and snapped at Aoki. "Telling me the Japanese champion is scared to fight the man I need to beat to fight him doesn't exactly make me feel any better, Aoki-san!"

"However, if you think about it, if you somehow beat Vorg, the belt is yours for the taking," Kimura mused.

Takamura walked away, yawning. "I'll leave you small fries to your small fry problems."

"Lose your damned belt already," Kimura muttered.

"Go die in a ditch," Aoki growled.

Takamura whirled around, glaring at the two. "Did you say something?" he asked, cracking his knuckles.

Aoki and Kimura bailed. "We're off to do our roadwork!" In a flash, they were gone.

Takamura scoffed. "That's what I thought."

Ippo sighed heavily, lifting his head to see a familiar spectacled face. His frown flipped upside down. "Ah, Urashima-san!" Ippo rushed over to shake Keitaro's hand. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Thanks," Keitaro said meekly. He felt like a fish out of water in this environment, but seeing a familiar, smiling face helped him feel at least somewhat welcome.

"Looks like you are ready to start, eh? Warmed up?" Ippo asked, looking Keitaro up and down.

Keitaro nodded. "As ready as I can get, I think."

Suddenly, a door adjacent to the one Ippo and the others emerged from slammed open against the wall, causing all those in the gym to visibly flinch. An aged, mostly bald old man stood in the doorway. "Kid!" he belted in a raspy voice.

Ippo snapped to attention. "Yes!"

"Get your ass out of here and do your roadwork!"

"Alright, coach!"

Keitaro gaped at the old man. He seemed like nothing more than a frail old man by outside appearances. But hearing his voice boom like that, Keitaro could tell that man commanded attention with his appearance. He was a natural leader.

"All right, Urashima-san," Ippo said with a cocky grin, stretching his legs out. "Let's see what you've got."

"Please, just call me Keitaro, Ippo-san."

Ippo smiled. "Alright, Keitaro-san, follow me."

Ippo took off towards the door, and Keitaro had to run to catch up. "Where are we going?" Keitaro asked.

Ippo paused, turning to look at Keitaro. "Out for a stroll," he said cryptically before jogging out of the building and down the sidewalk, with Keitaro following close behind.

"Who was that other kid with the glasses?" coach Kamogawa asked his gym manager, Yagi.

"Keitaro Urashima. Ippo-kun asked him to come down today," Yagi replied.

Takamura, overhearing the conversation, walked over to the two older men. "I think that's that one shrimp that was spying on us during our beach training camp. He's a coward and a weakling, but he sure makes one hell of a miso soup."

Kamogawa grunted and nodded before doing a double take at Takamura. "What the hell are you still doing here? Go do your roadwork before I break your legs!" he snarled.

"Shut up, old man," Takamura riposted. "I don't even have an opponent for my next defense!"

Kamogawa boiled over. He raised his cane over his head and brought it down hard against the top of Takamura's head. "I said get the hell out of here!"

Takamura retreated, smarting from the blow. "Damn you, old man! You're lucky I don't hit you back."

"GO!" Kamogawa yelled, throwing his cane at Takamura, who ducked just in time.

Takamura, halfway out the door, screamed a few choice words at his coach before running off.

"Keitaro Urashima, huh?" Kamogawa asked, his voice returning to normal. "Why would the kid invite someone when he knows we aren't accepting new members right now?"

"I have no idea, coach," Yagi said. "Obviously, he saw something in him."

"What about you? Did you notice anything about him?" Kamogawa asked.

Yagi shook his head and shrugged.

Kamogawa went back into his office, and Yagi entered with him, closing the door behind him. "Either way," Kamogawa said, sitting in his chair with a grunt, "he won't be able to keep up with the kid. That should be enough to scare him away."

* * *

Keitaro kept pace three steps behind Ippo, who was jogging at a leisurely pace for the past 10 minutes. He noticed Ippo turn his head every other minute or so, probably to make sure he was still there. But there was something amiss. Keitaro had not even broken a sweat yet. If this was all there was to roadwork, he thought, boxing must be pretty easy. 

"_He's keeping up pretty well. Let's see what he's made of," _Ippo thought, a smile creeping to his face. Suddenly, he took off at full speed, taking Keitaro momentarily by surprise. The next time Ippo looked back, Keitaro was a few more steps behind him, but was keeping pace. _"That's good, Keitaro-san. But how long will you last?"_

After two minutes of sprinting, Keitaro was beginning to pant, and he could feel the sweat beginning to pour down his forehead. He wiped it away quickly with his sleeve, and had to speed up a touch to stay behind Ippo. His legs started to hurt, and he started to feel a sharp, stabbing pain in his side. Ippo looked back at him again, and Keitaro steeled his nerves. _"I'm not through yet,"_ he thought, narrowing his eyes.

Without warning, Ippo stopped dead in his tracks, and Keitaro nearly barreled into him. Keitaro stood with his hands on his hips, breathing heavily, watching Ippo with astonishment. Ippo was shadowboxing, throwing an array of rights and lefts as he weaved his body around, dodging imaginary punches. Even after jogging for ten minutes, and sprinting for three, Ippo still had enough energy to shadowbox.

The pain in Keitaro's legs and his side subsided, and he stood directly behind Ippo and raised his fists. Before he could throw a punch, however, Ippo took off jogging again. Keitaro grumbled a bit before running to catch up to him.

"_Very good,"_ Ippo thought as he looked behind to see Keitaro just a few paces behind him. _"You can run at full speed for a full round and recover almost all your energy during the one minute interval. You've really done everything on that list every day. But can you do it four times in a row?"_

Just as Keitaro was getting back into the groove of the jogging pace, Ippo suddenly bolted again. "You've got to be kidding me," Keitaro muttered through his teeth, pushing himself back into a run.

* * *

For the last time, Ippo glanced behind him, seeing Keitaro almost 50 meters behind him now. "Almost there, Keitaro-san! Don't give up!" he yelled back at Keitaro, who was straining to keep running. Reaching the gym, Ippo slowed to a stop and turned around to see Keitaro cresting the final hill leading to the gym. He clapped his hands and cheered. "Run it out!" 

Keitaro gasped for breath, feeling like he was going to pass out at any moment. He could not believe Ippo had the energy to run like that without even becoming winded. He had worked so hard to earn this opportunity, and he was still so weak. But as the steep uphill slope leveled out, Keitaro could see Ippo standing in front of the gym, cheering for him.

The goal was in sight. Ignoring the fact that he was cramping and unable to breathe, Keitaro sped into a dead sprint. He ran as fast as his body could muster to the very end, and he collapsed to his knees in front of Ippo, wincing in obvious pain.

"Great job, Keitaro-san," Ippo said happily. "I'm really impressed with how far you've come along already!"

Keitaro looked at Ippo in shock. "You're kidding. I was just slowing you down!"

Ippo shook his head. "Not really. I had to push a little at the end." Ippo reached out and pulled Keitaro back to his feet. "The important thing is that you can make it through a four round match."

"Huh?" Keitaro was dumbfounded.

"We ran at full speed for three minutes four times with one minute's worth of rest in between." Ippo explained.

Keitaro thought back to the run, and everything began to make sense. That explained why Ippo suddenly stopped to shadowbox for roughly a minute each of those times.

"But you still aren't quite there yet, Keitaro-san. You ran out of gas at the end. We will have to work on your conditioning a bit more before you will be ready."

Keitaro nodded, and he and Ippo walked back into the gym. Almost immediately, a familiar raspy voice belted out, "Kid! Get your ass in the ring! We are hitting mitts!"

"Yes sir!" Ippo yelled back. "Sorry, Keitaro-san, would you mind waiting for me?"

The door opened behind the two men. "Don't worry about him," another all-too-familiar voice boomed, "I'll take good care of him." The way Takamura emphasized the word "good" made the hairs on Keitaro's neck stand at attention.

"Please, Takamura-san," Ippo begged. "Teach him correctly."

"Don't worry about it. I, the great Takamura-sama, would never lead your kouhai astray."

Ippo glowered, but he really had no choice. "Take care of him," he said before running towards the ring.

Keitaro glanced sideways at Takamura, who was staring at him with a fiendish grin on his face. He began to regret ever coming to Kamogawa Gym.

"Follow me, newbie," Takamura ordered, walking towards an empty spot on the gym floor. Once there, Takamura eyeballed Keitaro, looking him up and down, rubbing his chin with his hand. Keitaro felt more than a little uncomfortable being appraised like that, and his eyes wandered around, trying to focus on something other than the man brooding over him.

"Well, you seem to be in decent shape at least, if you were able to make it through Ippo's roadwork," Takamura said. Keitaro's spirit lifted, but it was far too temporary. "But I'll tell you this! His roadwork is nothing compared to mine! You were lucky not to be stuck with me!"

Keitaro tired of Takamura's haughty words, and he turned his head away. "Hey, pay attention when I'm talking to you!" Keitaro snapped back to attention. "You should know that you are learning from the best! So don't slack off!" Keitaro nodded weakly, in fear if by anything. Takamura placed his hands on his hips, looking the part of the instructor. "Now, show me your fighting pose."

Keitaro meekly put his hands up in front of him, wearing a grim look on his face, trying to appear menacing. "Like this?" he asked. Takamura stepped closer to him, and Keitaro lowered his hands slightly in response to his forward action.

Suddenly, Takamura shoved Keitaro backwards with his arm, causing him to nearly fall on his rear. He flailed his arms and kept his balance, however. "You see how crappy that stance is? I barely touched you and you went flying! Watch me." Takamura spread his feet apart, shoulder width, his left foot in front of his right.

"See my legs?" Keitaro nodded. "Try to push me." Keitaro looked at Takamura with a bewildered look. "Come on! Push me hard!" Keitaro did as ordered, shoving at Takamura with all of his strength, but the larger man's upper body barely moved. His feet did not move at all.

"Rule number one! Find and keep your balance. Spread your feet out like me now."

Keitaro glanced down at Takamura's feet, and mirrored him perfectly. "Bring your hands up like this," Takamura said, taking his full fighting stance. Keitaro followed, and Takamura ordered him not to move. With surprising speed, Takamura pushed at Keitaro's chest, but it barely jostled him his time, even though the force of the push was much greater than the first.

"See? Balance is everything. You need to keep that in mind even when you are throwing punches." Takamura demonstrated by taking his fighting stance and throwing several lightning quick combinations while weaving his head. Takamura's taped fists were a blur to Keitaro's eyes. However, his feet never moved.

The two moved over to a punching bag. "The jab," Takamura explained, punching straight at the bag with his left hand, sending it flying backwards several times. Keitaro jabbed a few times with his own left hand at the air. "This punch is the bread and butter for every boxer. Over half of all punches a boxer throws in a match will be a jab. This punch is used to judge distance, set up combinations, push an opponent off balance, and if you are like me, you can cleanly knock an opponent out with a hard jab. You try now."

Keitaro stood in front of the bag, took the stance he was shown, and swung at the bag with his left fist. The bag barely moved. "That was pathetic!" Takamura exclaimed, slapping Keitaro upside his head. Keitaro smarted from the hit. "Use your lower body; twist your hips when you punch. Don't just use your arm. Use your whole body."

Keitaro nodded, taking his pose again. He stared at the bag for a moment. "Go!" Takamura barked. Keitaro bent at the knees, stepping forward a half step with his left foot, twisting at the hip and waist, striking the bag with his left. The bag rocked backward, the dull sound of the blow reverberating in Keitaro's head.

"Not bad for a newbie," Takamura said. Keitaro did not know whether he had been praised or admonished, but the sound of the bag and the feel of hitting it gave him a rush.

* * *

Takamura spent the next hour drilling Keitaro on every other basic punch: straight, hook, uppercut, body blows, and simple combinations like the one-two. 

After taking a short break, Takamura once again stood in front of Keitaro. "Now, the key to boxing is, of course, hitting without being hit." Keitaro began to pale when he saw a grin creeping onto Takamura face. "And there's only one way to teach defense."

Keitaro felt the sharp sting of fear in his heart. "What do you mean?"

Instead of addressing Keitaro's question, Takamura turned to face the ring. "Hey, Ippo, you guys about done in there?" he called out.

"Almost," Ippo called back, not taking his eyes off of his sparring partner. Keitaro watched as Ippo slipped his opponent's jab and rushed into his chest, delivering compact blows to the body. Before Ippo could capitalize on his position, the bell rang, sounding the end of the sparring session. The two touched gloves before exiting through the ring ropes.

"It's all yours, Takamura-san," Ippo said. "What are you planning to do with Keitaro-san?"

"Operation Cure My Boredom," Takamura responded with shrill glee.

Ippo's face fell. "Are you suggesting that Keitaro-san spar with you?" Keitaro's body turned to stone, his face contorted in terror. "Takamura-san, what exactly will you be able to teach him by pounding him to a pulp in the ring?"

"Don't argue with me! I am the best one to learn from in this gym, especially when it comes to defense. Get your gloves on, kid, and get your ass in the ring."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Keitaro stood in the corner of the ring, decked in 12-ounce gloves and full sparring protection. Ippo stood on the canvas outside the ropes next to him, trying to give Keitaro advice on how to deal with the much larger man standing in the opposite corner, warming up his arms and legs. "Just keep your guard up and don't let him outflank you," Ippo said to a trembling Keitaro. 

A small group formed outside the ring comprised of Aoki, Kimura, Yagi, and Kamogawa. A few other gym members formed another group of spectators on the other side of the ring. "Try not to kill him, Takamura-san," Aoki said.

"This is just a lesson in defense, kid," Takamura said, dancing in his corner. "I'll be with you until the end. Be grateful!"

"Yes, sir," Keitaro said with as much courage as he could muster. Unfortunately, his voice cracked into a whimper.

Ippo placed a hand on Keitaro shoulder. "If you can survive three minutes with Takamura-san, you will surely impress the coach. So hang in there and don't let yourself get knocked out."

"That's easier said than done, Ippo," Kimura said, overhearing his words of advice. All of the boxers in Kamogawa Gym had carnal knowledge of Takamura's legendary punching power, having been knocked out in spars with him on multiple occasions. His power was not his only weapon, however. It seemed no matter what tactics they tried to implement against him, he seemed to read through them like a book. Ippo's advice was the best course of action for someone that had no experience in the ring.

**DING**

Keitaro blinked several times, realizing that without his glasses, everything in the ring, including the hulking mass approaching him was nothing but a blur. _"Oh crap, I forgot about my glasses!"_ Keitaro lacked the time to react to his situation. Takamura was already within punching distance.

Keitaro instinctively ducked low, barely avoiding Takamura's left hook. Keitaro ran under his outstretched arm, dashing to the other side of the ring. But when he turned around, Takamura was already right on top of him.

"Keep your guard up!" Ippo screamed out.

Keitaro raised his hands to cover his face as Takamura jabbed with his left. Keitaro's upper body flew backwards with the force of the punch, but he remained standing.

"Keep moving your feet and body, Keitaro," Kimura yelled out.

Takamura continued to jab over Keitaro's guard. _"Naru's fists are nothing compared to this. And they are just jabs! I need to get away before he catches me and sends me out of the ring!"_ Keitaro shifted his weight, running to the left, but Takamura quickly cut him off. He reversed directions, but Takamura was far too quick.

"Running is pointless," Aoki said. Kimura nodded in agreement.

"You ready to go down now?" Takamura asked, throwing a flurry of punches that separated Keitaro's guard.

Ippo closed his eyes, knowing what was coming next.

Takamura slammed a hard left into Keitaro's body. Keitaro hunched over, nearly spitting up his mouthpiece. Takamura followed with a right hook to his face, tossing him across the ring. Keitaro's broken body slumped to the canvas.

Ippo glowered at Takamura as he sauntered to his corner. "Was that really necessary, Takamura-san? You didn't need to hit him that hard!"

Gasps and mutterings from the crowd of spectators drew Ippo's attention back to Keitaro, who had already gotten back to his feet. He looked dazed, panting heavily with an open mouth, but he stood nonetheless. "No way," Ippo muttered.

Takamura turned around and started visibly at the sight of Keitaro standing on the other side of the ring after taking two of his strong shots. "What the hell?" he asked.

Yagi was equally dumbfounded. "Did you see that, coach?"

Kamogawa watched on without answering.

"I guess I just didn't hit you hard enough, huh?" Takamura said, stretching his arms out while approaching Keitaro.

Another collective gasp echoed through the hall when Keitaro ran into Takamura and punched at him with left jabs. Takamura was caught off guard so badly he needed to slap Keitaro's jabs away with his gloves and step out of his range.

"Did he just pressure Takamura-san right there?" Aoki asked his friend.

"It certainly looked like it," Kimura answered.

Ippo was awestruck by Keitaro's ability to stand so quickly after taking heavy middleweight punches. And not only that, he forced Takamura to step back. Although it was obviously a fluke, since Takamura was caught off-guard, no one else had been able to make Takamura move one step backward.

"He's ready now, Keitaro-san. Don't move into his range. Let him come to you!" Ippo screamed.

Takamura responded by lighting Keitaro up with a quick one-two, sending Keitaro's body back and forth like a pendulum. Keitaro stepped backward, keeping his guard up.

"How is this kid standing?" Yagi asked Kamogawa.

"Some people, no matter how hard they get hit, can remain standing," Kamogawa explained. "The great Rocky Marciano was one of those people. He was never knocked out, being knocked down only twice in 49 fights, despite fighting against much larger opponents. This kid has what Marciano had. He has an iron jaw!"

Takamura had Keitaro pinned in the corner, continuing to pound over and around his tight guard. _"I just have to stay on my feet,"_ Keitaro thought to himself. He wondered how much time was left when an uppercut sent his head flying backwards. Takamura followed with another up-down-up combination, and Keitaro began to fall forward. Just before hitting the mat, he grabbed onto Takamura's waist, keeping himself up.

**DING**

The sound of the bell, ending the sparring round, echoed through the gym. Everyone was frozen in place, unable to move or speak, until Keitaro's grip on Takamura loosed and he fell face first to the mat.

Ippo jumped into the ring, Kimura, Aoki, and Yagi following close behind. "Keitaro-san!" Ippo yelled, dropping to his knees in front of the fallen ronin.

Takamura tossed of his gloves and squatted down next to Keitaro. "The kid just wouldn't go down," he said, annoyed.

Ippo and Takamura gingerly turned Keitaro over, with Aoki, Yagi, and Kimura looming over them, expecting to see Keitaro's bloody, swollen face. Instead, Keitaro was smiling broadly, panting heavily through the mouth. Ippo removed his mouthpiece. "Are you alright?" Yagi asked.

"I-I made it, right?" Keitaro asked weakly.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, you really did," Aoki grumbled.

"Kudos to you, kid. You lasted a full round with me," Takamura said, helping pull Keitaro back to his feet. "But don't get too cocky! You were wearing headgear, after all."

After pulling Keitaro's headgear off and seeing the swelling around his face and eyes, Yagi rushed off to get some ice. Kimura ordered one of the other trainees to push a stool into the ring for Keitaro to sit on.

After being seated and putting a bag of ice on his head, Keitaro noticed Kamogawa enter the ring and approach him. "I'm impressed you were able to stay standing after taking all that punishment," Kamogawa said to him. "However, even someone as green as you would have been able to avoid many of those punches."

Keitaro gazed down at his feet. "So, you noticed?"

"I aimed a lot of those blows so he would be able to easily slip them, but he kept running right into them for some reason," Takamura added.

"This kid has great instincts, and has a gift that many boxers can only dream about. However, his poor eyesight makes it impossible for him to be a pro."

"But wait," Ippo protested.

Kimura placed a hand on Ippo's shoulder. "You know as well as the rest of us that eyesight is a boxers most important asset."

"Even with an iron jaw, if you can't see your opponent's punches, even a scrub would make mincemeat out of you," Takamura said.

"I understand," Keitaro said, standing up. "I knew this whole thing was a pipe dream to begin with. Thanks for the opportunity, anyway."

"Hey, Keitaro-kun, wait a second," Yagi said, grabbing Keitaro's shoulder. Keitaro turned around to face the manager. "If you want to, you can come work out with these guys. Just because you can't be a pro, that doesn't mean you can't be a member here. Would that be okay with you, coach?"

"Do whatever you want. You are the manager of this gym, aren't you?" Kamogawa asked with feigned indifference.

Takamura wrapped an arm around Keitaro's shoulder. "What do you say? You'll keep me from being bored, and then I won't have to beat up on these three fools." Takamura pointed at Ippo, Aoki, and Kimura.

"Please, Keitaro, you'll be saving us from unnecessary punishment," Aoki begged.

"We'll be glad to have a new kouhai we can boss around," Kimura added.

"You guys are horrible," Ippo noted. "Seriously, you are more than welcome, anytime!"

Keitaro had to fight back tears. He could not pursue his dream, yet he had the unyielding support of his new friends. "I'll gladly come back! Thank you very much!" Keitaro bowed deeply to each person in the ring with him.

* * *

Keitaro toweled himself off after taking a well-deserved shower in the gym's locker room. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he put his glasses back on and looked in a nearby mirror. He wiped away the condensation on the surface of the mirror with his hand and gasped at his face. He was pockmarked with black-and-blue bruises. "How the hell am I gonna explain this to Narusegawa?" he wondered aloud.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro is thrown out of the frying pan and into the fire when he goes home and is forced to explain his injuries. But after another of his dreams are shot down, will he be willing to share his secrets with the tenants of Hinata Sou? Find out next time on Hajime no Keitaro!

Author's Note: Not quite what many were expecting I'm sure. Note that I am trying my best for this process of molding Keitaro into a completely different person to be believable. Keitaro can be knocked out. He just can't be seriously hurt (sans one broken bone caused by an enormous falling object). Leave a review and let me know if you like the progression of the story so far! Thanks!


	6. Unscalable Wall

Hajime no Keitaro: Unscalable Wall

Keitaro limped up the remaining flight of stone steps leading to the sprawling front yard of Hinata Sou. Wincing, he clutched at his side, unable to shake off the body blows he received in his spar with Takamura, which may as well have been classified as a one-sided beat-down. For some reason, Keitaro was unable to recover from Takamura's punches nearly as quickly as he did from Naru's punches, Su's kicks, or Motoko's ki strikes. _"This must be the difference between normal people and boxers," _Keitaro concluded as he threw open the front door to Hinata Sou's foyer.

"I'm home," Keitaro called out weakly, silently hoping no one would notice his return. But as his luck would have it, the entire residency seemed to be awaiting his return.

Not a moment after Keitaro dropped his gym bag on the floor just inside the door, a small, bare foot slammed into his right cheek, sending him flying out the still-open door. "Welcome back, Keitaro," Su chimed with glee.

Keitaro, ignoring the crushing pain in his stomach, pulled himself back to his feet. "Hi, Su-chan."

As Keitaro walked back into the inn and sat down to remove his shoes, Su noticed the black and blue marks dotting Keitaro's face. She squatted down next to him and poked the bruises with her finger, causing Keitaro to recoil and gulp in air. "What happened to your face, Keitaro? It looks like you got beat up!"

"_Never mind the fact you just kicked me in the face, Su-chan," _Keitaro thought. "Oh, it's nothing, just had a little accident," Keitaro explained nervously. Keitaro prayed silently that his account would work as he unlaced his shoes and kicked them to the side of the entryway.

The five other girls, including the new resident Mutsumi, walked over to join Keitaro and Su. As Keitaro stood up and kicked his feet into his slippers, he turned to walk into the common room, but balked when he saw all his tenants standing in front of him. Shinobu covered her face with her hands, Kitsune winced, Naru's jaw dropped, Mutsumi's eyes widened a bit, and Motoko raised an eyebrow at the sight of Keitaro's face.

Naru stepped out from the group and reached out to touch Keitaro's face with curiosity. "What happened to you?" she asked with concern.

Keitaro pulled his face away and snatched Naru's hand before it reached him. "It's nothing. Really. I just slipped on something and fell."

Motoko furrowed her brow as she folded her arms over her chest. "And fell on your face twenty times?" she asked.

"Well…yeah," Keitaro responded, hoping they would believe him. Honestly, something like that would not be out of the ordinary for a klutz like him. He picked up his bag, excused himself, and walked through the room and up the stairs, leaving a group of flustered girls behind.

"He certainly didn't look like he had an accident," Shinobu said. "His clothes were still clean."

"I agree," Motoko added, "Those injuries are inconsistent with the situation he described."

Naru thought she had the answer. "He probably bumped into some big guy's girlfriend and got the snot beat out of him again."

"Ara, that's terrible," Mutsumi giggled.

The girls walked back to their seats in the common room, the accusations and theories still flying, but Kitsune was strangely silent through most of the conversation.

* * *

Keitaro shut himself into his room, breathing a sigh of relief to have made it through the gauntlet. "Why the hell am I even bothering to lie anymore?" he asked himself. The question wa valid. He could not become a professional boxer with his physical limitations. What did he have to lose? He wouldn't have to hide anymore. Lately it seemed that all he did was hide himself away from everyone.

Keitaro chucked his bag at his futon, which was neatly folded in the corner. He sat at his desk, resigning himself to studying until lunchtime. "Math first, I suppose," he muttered, opening a pre-calculus textbook to its bookmark.

As Keitaro was reading and jotting down notes in his notebook, he felt his leg bouncing up and down under the desk. Annoyed by the constant movement, Keitaro closed his textbook, unable to focus on the equations. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing his bruised face.

Was there any point in going to Kamogawa gym if he had no chance to be a boxer? Was there anything to gain from just training? His life was good enough right now. He had a roof over his head and was surrounded by beautiful females. Other men would give limbs to be in his situation. Moreover, he had promises to keep, and duties to fulfill. He was not about to let everyone down.

"Maybe I should just stop," Keitaro said to his reflection. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He would feel no more pain, he could be open and honest, and he could focus on his studies more. He noticed his leg still jumping around, and he decided to take a jog to calm him and think more about what he wanted to do.

After changing into his sweats and retrieving his running shoes from his closet, Keitaro left his room and walked down the stairs, once again entering the common room. The girls were still there, and they became strangely silent once they noticed their landlord coming down the stairs.

"Heading back out again?" Kitsune asked, being first to notice the shoes in Keitaro's hand. She knew exactly what Keitaro was doing, but, remembering her promise, tempered her question to not raise suspicion among the group.

"Yeah, I'll be back soon though," Keitaro responded, not bothering to stop, or even to really take notice of everyone in the room. He just wanted to get out on the road, where he would have some temporary peace.

"Where are you going?" Keitaro heard Naru ask as he sat down to put on his shoes.

Keitaro's eyes darted around as he hastily searched for an answer. "Just for a walk," he lied. He praised himself for at least speaking a half-truth for once in a long while.

Kitsune raised her head to look at Keitaro over the two opposing chairs. "Be sure not to run into anybody's girlfriend this time alright?" That little quip caused a uniform giggle from the other girls.

The giggles did not concern Keitaro. What did was the way Kitsune emphasized the word "run". He shot her a glance after he stood up, warning her to not cross the line. "I'm leaving now," he said acidly.

Kitsune waved back as if she had done nothing. "Come back safe now." She had him right in the palm of her hands, or so she thought.

After Keitaro left the inn, Su asked, "What's the matter with him today? He seemed mad."

Kitsune played innocent as she stretched out on the sofa. "He's probably mad that he got beat up again. He'll be fine when he gets back."

Shinobu pounded her fist in the palm of her other hand. "Alright then! I'll whip up his favorite dinner tonight," she said. "Just to cheer him up…if you don't mind, of course," she added, trying to deflect the others' stares.

"Even still," Motoko said, pondering the situation. "It's not like him to leave when he's mad. He usually holes himself up in his room. Even his aura seems different somehow, but I can't quite put my finger on exactly what."

"Motoko-chan is right," Naru said, nodding approvingly at the dark-haired teenager. "This is not like him at all…have you noticed anything weird about him lately, Kitsune?"

Kitsune flinched at the sound of her name. "Who, me? N-no, not really! Why are you asking me, anyway?"

"Because you are here more than the rest of us," Naru answered. Thankfully for Kitsune, her defensive response went unnoticed as Naru turned her attention away from her. "I think we should keep our eyes and ears peeled."

"Ara, Narusegawa-san, could it be that you are actually worried about Urashima-kun?" Mutsumi asked, quiet until this point.

"Well, aren't you?" Naru fired back.

"I kind of like seeing him act out a little bit," Mutsumi said, her eyes getting dreamy.

"You just like him, period, don't you?" Naru asked.

Mutsumi nodded with a smile. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Naru responded, gazing at the floor. "Not really."

* * *

Keitaro turned another corner, winding his way through the streets of Hinata Onsen. He stayed on the left side of the streets, avoiding the group of people that seemed to crush themselves in the middle. Seeing a familiar sight ahead, Keitaro slowed down, eventually stopping in front of the bridge leading out of town. He gazed across to the other side, which was blanketed in fog, panting as he caught his breath. 

"This is my predicament, isn't it?" Keitaro asked himself. He could stay on this side, where everything was, for the most part, familiar and safe. On the other side, there was an unknown destiny. The only way to know what lay ahead was to run towards it. But whom was he kidding? He knew the furthest he could go was halfway. The fog may as well have been a 10-story brick wall.

Even though he said he could quit, Keitaro knew in his heart-of-hearts that was a lie. He had invested far too much time and effort to let it all go to waste. Moreover, exercising had become habit for him. He was running for recreation now! It would be impossible for him to ignore what had since become an integrated part of his life.

"I'll do what I can. Even if I can't see the other side, I won't stop looking," Keitaro decided. He broke out in a full sprint, dashing over the bridge towards the fog. As he approached the dense thicket of moisture, he thought he saw something on the other side. This spurred him to run even faster.

"I see it!" Keitaro exclaimed, just before a semi truck barreled through the fog, heading right in Keitaro's direction. He driver honked when he saw the young man running in front of his truck, and Keitaro ducked out of the way just in time as the truck sped by.

"Idiot!" the driver roared out his window at Keitaro, who gasped in relief.

"Maybe it should just remain a metaphor for now," Keitaro told himself, watching the truck disappear down the road. He stood up and jogged back across to Hinata Onsen.

* * *

Later that evening, Keitaro, Naru, and Mutsumi met in Naru's room to study. There was a practice exam in a few short days, and the three wasted no time hitting the books relevant to the material on the upcoming test.

"Narusegawa," Keitaro asked apologetically, "could you refresh my memory on this one?" Keitaro slid his book over for Naru to see, pointing at a particularly difficult question.

"It's referenced on page 203," Naru answered, "read it, and it will give you the answer."

"Oh, thanks"

A few minutes later, Keitaro went over some flash cards, and feeling pretty confident about his knowledge, when he noticed Mutsumi looking at him. More than that, she seemed to be boring a hole through him with her eyes. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Do they hurt?" Mutsumi asked.

"What?"

"Your bruises. They look like they hurt."

"Yeah, but only a little. I'm okay."

Naru took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "Would you guys mind stepping outside if you are going to continue this conversation? I can't focus with you two rambling on with your small talk."

"Oh, sorry," Keitaro and Mutsumi responded in unison, giggling at each other for their unintended harmony.

"The test is in a few days. It's about time to start getting serious."

Keitaro turned his attention to Naru. "Hey, Narusegawa." Naru huffed at Keitaro, but gave him her undivided attention. "Do you remember what we said when we decided to try for Tokyo University together one more time?"

Naru shook her head slightly. "What about it?"

"We said we weren't going to be so serious this time. This time we were going to have fun. Didn't we agree that's why we failed last time? Because we got far too serious?"

Naru cracked a smile and chuckled. "Why did I make such a stupid promise?" She flipped her pencil around and poked Keitaro's forehead with her eraser.

Keitaro winced, rubbing the spot Naru had hit. "Ouch!"

"Anyway, let's get back to work," Naru suggested.

Nodding in agreement, Keitaro and Mutsumi resumed their studies, and the three completed the remainder of their session in relative silence.

* * *

After bidding his two study partners goodnight, Keitaro walked down to the kitchen to get himself a bite to eat. A commotion from the game room caught Keitaro's attention. He heard Kitsune shouting at the television, which seemed to be showing some sporting event. 

"What's going on in here, Kitsune-san?" Keitaro asked as he entered the game room.

"My guy is getting his ass handed to him!" Kitsune exclaimed, throwing up her arms in exasperation.

"Huh?" Keitaro looked at the screen, and saw a boxing match going on. It was the third round, and one of the men was pounding on the other, who was covering up in the corner. "You bet on a boxing match?" he asked, sitting down next to the woman.

"Sure," Kitsune said, wincing as her boxer took yet another clean body blow. "But now I'm regretting it. I knew the odds were too far against me."

"What were the odds?" Keitaro asked.

"Fifty-to-one."

"Well, what did you expect then?" Keitaro couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. He had never watched a match before, and his brain was soaking information from it like a dry sponge.

"Well, it was even money on the favorite, so I figured 'what the hell'."

Keitaro shook his head at Kitsune. She threw what little money she had around thoughtlessly. The way things appeared, it seemed she would be late once again in making her rent. But that thought left Keitaro's mind as he became entranced in the match on the television.

The match remained a one-sided contest into the sixth round. The favorite had the underdog once again pinned on the ropes, punching at him through his tight defense. However, the punches slowed, and became less sharp. "Kitsune-san, do you get the impression your boxer is waiting for something?"

Kitsune shook her head, "All I see is a beat-down. He's been knocked down twice already, and there's only two rounds left."

TV Announcer: Miyazaki is becoming frustrated at Komamura's tight guard. He's starting to wail over it without regard for defense. And Komamura simply sits in the corner and takes it!

Keitaro began to sense a shift in the match's equilibrium. "His eyes," he said.

"His eyes?" Kitsune asked.

"Look at Komamura's eyes. They are completely alive. Miyazaki may have knocked him down, but he hasn't truly hurt him."

Kitsune squinted at the television. "Ah, you're right. But how could you tell?"

Keitaro shrugged. "Intuition, I guess. And look, Miyazaki is starting to throw wide shots. He's leaving himself wide open! Komamura could counter at any time!"

Just then, Komamura deflected a right hook and returned with a powerful left uppercut.

TV Announcer: Wow! There's a perfectly timed counter from Komamura! It looks like he was just playing possum. And Miyazaki is hurt!

Kitsune might have been cheering that her boxer had just turned the match on its head, but she stared in amazement at Keitaro. She knew he had never seen a boxing match before, and yet he saw right through her boxer's tactics.

"There it is!" Keitaro cheered. "Kitsune-san, your boxer is gonna win!"

"A-amazing," Kitsune said, at a loss for words. She looked back at the television just in time to see Komamura knock Miyazaki to the canvas with a combination.

Keitaro jumped out of his chair. "Did you see that? He went, POW, POW, POW!" He punched the air with his fists, mirroring what he just saw in the match. "And down he went!"

TV Announcer: And the referee doesn't even bother with a count! He waves his hands over his head, signaling the end of the match! And it ends with a brilliant comeback KO victory for Komamura!

"He won, Kitsune-san! He won! You just won a fifty-to-one bet!"

Kitsune gawked at the screen. She did not know whether to be more surprised that she won a huge gamble or that her landlord, unknown for his sports knowledge, foretold the end of the match.

"I guess you'll be making rent on time this month after all, huh?" Keitaro asked cheerfully.

"I…I guess so," Kitsune answered.

"Oh, I just remembered!"

"Remembered what?" Kitsune asked.

"I'm starved. I need to make myself something to eat. I'll talk to you later!" Keitaro waved and walked through the door to the kitchen, leaving Kitsune alone with her thoughts. She picked up the television remote, turned the set off and dropped the remote back onto the table. She leaned back in her seat, staring at the winning ticket in her hand.

* * *

Keitaro retired back to his room after eating a light snack of Shinobu's leftover miso soup, deciding to read a bit before going to sleep. He lay on his futon, holding the book over his eyes. A muffled thud from above his head caught his attention. "Narusegawa?" he asked, looking in the direction of the hole in the ceiling.

After several moments of silence, Keitaro shrugged his shoulders and resumed his reading. After a few pages, he began to doze off, laying the open book across his chest and closing his eyes. Soon after, he felt a dream washing over him as it took shape.

Keitaro was in a ring, fighting against a faceless opponent. The area around the ring was dark, but from the sounds of the cheering crowd, Keitaro could tell it was a live match. His opponent jabbed at him over and over, each punch finding its mark on his face. Try as he might, Keitaro could not find the strength to lift his arms to block the incoming jabs.

Keitaro began to panic as his opponent shoved him into the ropes and began to pound the daylights out of him. With each blow, the roar of the crowd became louder. Finally, Keitaro felt a huge shot land across his right temple, and he felt himself begin to fall.

The sudden falling sensation drew Keitaro from his dream, and he bolted upright, panting heavily. He glanced around his room, as if expecting something to be out of place, but the only thing that had moved was the book he was reading, which now lay in his lap. Keitaro rubbed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief.

Another strange sound from the room above Keitaro drew his eyes to the ever-present hole in the ceiling. Keitaro could only react when he heard a scream and saw a body falling through the hole…

* * *

Naru slapped herself lightly on the cheek as she dozed off for the third time. "I have to finish this book tonight, damn it!" she scolded herself. Try as she might, however, the small print blurred before her eyes, despite her thick glasses. She shook her head and squinted, but to no avail.

Keitaro and Mutsumi had long since left the study session, but Naru was determined to finish the book she had started. But now, 200 pages later, her brain and eyes were on fire. Even her hair seemed to hurt. After struggling to finish one last paragraph, she decided the best course of action was to finish it in the morning.

On wobbly legs, Naru wobbled over to her bookshelf and placed the book haphazardly on the edge of the shelf. She lacked the energy to care about where she placed the book. She just wanted to put it somewhere she could easily find it in the morning.

Naru yawned as she turned and headed for her futon, her shoulders drooping and her eyes more than halfway closed. However, she had forgotten she had moved the plate covering the hole in her floor and did not put it back into place. She stepped right through the hole, falling right through it.

Naru barely had time to scream before something soft broke her fall. Her body still locked in fear, Naru poked an eye open, looking down at the floor. She was still several feet away from slamming into the ground, and she became aware of the two strong arms that were cradling her, one around her back, and the other around her legs.

"Narusegawa, are you okay?" Keitaro asked, breathing heavily. "That was really close!"

"K-Keitaro?" Naru asked, looking at his face but not believing her eyes. "How did you?"

"I heard some sounds coming from up there, and I saw you slip through just in time."

"Thank you," Naru said, her voice still quivering in fear. Her heart was pounding, but she could not tell if it was from the fall or the fact that Keitaro had caught her…and was still holding her.

The moment was broken when Keitaro involuntarily squeezed his right hand, which was still cupped over Naru's own right breast. Keitaro was not even aware of it until he saw Naru's face turn red and her face contorted into a look of anger.

"YOU PERVERT!" Naru exclaimed, her voice audible from miles away.

After a loud crash, Keitaro's voice could be heard yelling, "SORRY!" as his body flew into a low earth orbit.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: What is this? A way for Keitaro to pursue his boxing dreams? Kamogawa obviously sees more than just potential in Keitaro. And the girls back at Hinata Sou begin to piece together the puzzle. All this and more, next time on: Hajime no Keitaro!!!

Author's Note: For some reason, this chapter was really hard to put together, but I kind of like the result. Thanks again for reading, and to you too, Mike, for pre-reading and helping me polish some stuff up. Please leave a review on your way out!


	7. Opportunity Knocks

Hajime no Keitaro: Opportunity Knocks

Keitaro punched in a flurry, landing multiple combinations on the punching bag swinging like a pendulum before him. He circled around it, his dancing feet moving him counter-clockwise around the inanimate object. He jabbed hard high and low, his feet never halting his movement. Occasionally, he would stop to deliver a one-two, then immediately pick up his foot movement.

Coach Kamogawa stood with his arms folded across his chest, watching Keitaro intently from across the room. He heard footsteps approach him, and he turned his head to see Yagi coming his way. "Those are some pretty good sounds," Yagi noted, knowing exactly who Kamogawa was looking at.

"It's not just that," Kamogawa said plainly. "Look at his movement. He lacks an opponent in his mind, yet he moves around the bag like he has a picture-perfect image of someone."

"He's only been a member here for a couple of weeks now, right?" Yagi asked, to which Kamogawa nodded. "And he has learned that much already?"

"That kid had no prior boxing experience. You could surely tell as well as I when he first sparred with Takamura. But, judging by his vast improvement, it's clear that kid has some talent."

Yagi glanced at the coach. "What are you trying to say, Coach?"

Kamogawa stared broodingly at Keitaro as he finished hitting the bag. He came up sweating profusely and heaving mightily, but he wore an unashamed grin on his face, smacking the punching bag one last time before he walked back into the locker room. "I think it's time to consider bringing up that idea to him soon," Kamogawa said, turning to his gym manager.

"Already?" Yagi asked, taken aback by the coach's sudden suggestion.

"Sure," Kamogawa replied, turning back to his office door. "Why not?" he added, shutting the door behind him as he entered.

A grin crept onto Yagi's face. "Keitaro-kun will surely be excited to hear about this."

* * *

Keitaro camped under the hot shower, letting the steaming water flow from his hair down his whole body. This was, more or less, the only place he could enjoy a relaxing soak. Invariably at Hinata Sou, he would be interrupted in his own bath by someone needing emergency repairs or be blatantly walked in upon in the hot springs. 

He figured it strange that Naru had nothing to say about Keitaro saving her from at least a very sore tailbone several weeks ago. In fact, not one of his tenants had spoken more than a few sentences to him at any one time over the past fourteen days. He began to wash his body, wondering if something had happened that they did not want to reveal to him, when he felt the sting of a towel whipping against his backside.

"Ouch!" Keitaro yelped, jumping straight up in the air in surprise. He spun around and saw Takamura holding the offending towel in his hands, and wearing nothing but a wide grin. "Takamura-san, what the heck was that for?"

Keitaro suddenly felt Takamura leering at him, and he covered himself instinctively. Takamura frowned. "Nothing much, apparently," he said before sauntering away.

Keitaro gibbered a few unintelligible words and shook his head. If not for his pervasively chauvinistic attitude towards women, Keitaro would have wondered about Takamura's sexual preference. He always seemed to be comparing…sizes. Keitaro noticed that, interestingly enough, Takamura struck out with women more than Shirai and Haitani. And that was saying something.

Keitaro continued with his shower, putting the antics of his sempai out of his mind. Besides, he had more to be concerned with at home

* * *

Naru slammed her palm on the coffee table for the third time in less than 20 minutes. "I know you know something, Kitsune," Naru exclaimed. She had been grilling her friend for about a half hour now about the happenings of their landlord, with little progress. "You have been strangely quiet whenever we talk about him, and I know better than anyone that means you are hiding something. Now tell me!" 

Kitsune stifled a yawn. She knew this would happen eventually, and she had long since prepared for it. However, she didn't expect Naru to be quite so persistent. "Why do you want to know anyway, Naru? Are you afraid you might be losing him to someone else?"

Naru was also prepared for a red herring riposte from Kitsune. She quickly deflected the question and pressed on with her argument. "Aha, so you admit that you know something about what is going on with him!"

Kitsune tiled her head to one side indifferently. "So what if I do?" Naru grumbled under her breath, and Kitsune knew that meant Naru was losing steam. "I will tell you this: you have nothing to worry about."

"How many times do I need to tell you," Naru huffed. "There's nothing going on between us, already. I wish you would just give it up."

"_And I wish you would quit lying to yourself," _Kitsune thought inwardly. "Well, that's too bad, then. If you had anything to do with him, I would tell you. You would have the right to know, after all."

Naru opened her mouth to respond, but she could only exhale. "The way he caught me," Naru began with a much softer tone, but she quickly changed her line of thought. "There's something very different about him, but I can't quite place what it is other than to say he seems much more mature lately. I feel like if I just come out and ask him he won't tell me, and I don't want to be reduced to spying on him anymore."

Kitsune smiled. Her friend was finally beginning to understand what being an adult is all about. Keitaro, unbeknownst to her, was beginning to rub off on Naru. Whether she was willing admit it or not, Naru harbored some feelings towards the ronin. Otherwise, she would not care about what he did. After all, the opposite of love was not hate, but apathy.

"I don't know the whole story either…" Kitsune said, giving up the fight. Keitaro would surely forgive her, if the outcome she expected came to pass. More importantly, from now on she would have to purchase her own alcohol.

* * *

Keitaro skid his feet to a halt in front of the stairs leading up to Hinata Sou, dropping his bag. He punched at the air a few times, dancing around an invisible opponent. After a minute, he was thoroughly winded. Panting mightily, he slung his bag over his shoulder and trekked up the stone steps to Hinata Sou. He felt especially good today. He had an excellent solo workout, and he enjoyed every moment he could spend away from all the trifles of everyday life. 

"I'm home!" Keitaro belted out as he entered the foyer of the apartment building. Almost immediately after calling out his arrival, Keitaro noticed Naru and Kitsune sitting on the sofa next to each other in the common room. "Oh, hi there, you two."

As Keitaro kicked off his running shoes, Kitsune stood up and moved to the stairs. "She's all yours," she said matter-of-factly as she climbed, leaving the two alone. "Sorry I couldn't keep my promise, Keitaro. But it's for the best," Kitsune mumbled as she glanced back.

"So how was the gym?" Naru asked, not moving from her seat.

Keitaro froze in place, as if an icy dagger had pierced his heart. He stared at Naru for a moment, watching her foot twirl around as she sat cross-legged, with her arms folded across her chest. _"She means business," _he thought, _"but how?"_ A sudden realization shot through Keitaro's mind, and he turned to look up the empty staircase. "Damn that girl," he muttered.

"How long have you been lying to all of us?" Naru posed another question.

"What are you talking about? I've never lied about what I've been doing," Keitaro responded defensively. "You never asked."

"And would you have been honest if I did?"

Keitaro's shoulders slumped. "Probably not," he answered honestly. He sat down in a chair directly across from Naru. "Even still, it's my business what I do with my spare time."

"You're right," Naru conceded. "However, it's my right as a tenant to know where my apartment manager is in case of an emergency."

Keitaro shook his head and chuckled sarcastically. Indeed, he and Naru had nothing more than a manager-tenant relationship. "Is that it?" he asked, lowering his eyes, his voice cracking with defeat.

Naru shook her head. "Honestly, I've been worried about you." She tempered her statement after Keitaro looked at her with a hopeful smile. "We all have."

"Why?" Keitaro asked. It never seemed like anyone was concerned about what he was doing. In fact, it seemed like no one gave a damn about anything he had done recently.

"Well, you've been acting strange, lately. Something about you has changed. You are distant, you don't talk much, and that's just when you are actually around! You go missing for hours at a time. You come home at the strangest hours, leave at even stranger times, and even one day come home all beat up!"

Keitaro slowly absorbed everything Naru had said. It all made sense. If he were on the outside, he definitely would have noticed something strange about his behavior.

"To tell you the truth," Naru continued, "I thought you were sneaking off to some secret study group."

"It's really nothing like that," Keitaro said with a laugh. No one in their right mind would consider any of the people at Kamogawa Gym intellectuals. In fact, Keitaro was sure they were some of the dumbest individuals within a fifty-mile radius.

"Well, have you noticed your grades lately?" To this question Keitaro shook his head. "Your average is up to 67 now. Tokyo University is more than just a dream for you now."

"What? 67? How is that possible?" Keitaro asked. His average jumped 15 points in the last several months, and it was not from added study time. In fact, if anything, his study time had decreased significantly since meeting Ippo during the summer.

"Well, after hearing the story from Kitsune, I remembered this study that described people who exercise regularly have an increased oxygen and blood flow to the brain, and they learn and retain information better than those that don't exercise regularly."

"Oh, I see," Keitaro said with a nod, although his eyes were still darting around as he tried to absorb the information.

"But after seeing results like this, Mutsumi-san and I should try doing whatever it is you are doing, if it's going to help this much."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Narusegawa," Keitaro said, amused at the thought of Naru and Mutsumi trying to learn to box. However, thinking about the two boxing together in the ring was a nice fantasy.

"And that one night, when I fell through the hole," Naru began and trailed off.

"Yeah, it was a good thing I was there," Keitaro said with a nod, remembering that night as if it were yesterday. "Sorry about what happened."

Naru shook her head. "No, I should be thanking you. You really saved me there. But that's not the reason I'm bringing that up now."

Keitaro gave Naru an inquisitive look.

"It's like you knew something was going to happen. There's no way you could have rushed over and just caught me like that under normal circumstances."

Keitaro smiled at Naru knowingly. "I'm not quite the same as I used to be, Narusegawa." Seeing her puzzled look, Keitaro stood and pulled off his sweater, revealing his well-muscled arms under his t-shirt.

"No way," Naru said, shocked at the sight. Keitaro's arms looked like they were chiseled from granite. "How did you do this?" she asked, standing and approaching Keitaro. She reached out and touched his arm unconsciously, feeling the warmth of its solid muscles.

"Lots of hard work," Keitaro answered, enjoying the cool touch of Naru's hand on his arm. It was strange for him to have a woman, let alone Naru, marvel over him like that. However, he was not about to let the weirdness of the situation keep him from liking it.

Naru suddenly lapsed back into consciousness, realizing she was stroking Keitaro's arm. She pulled away suddenly, wincing as if Keitaro's arm had burned her hand. "Are you okay?" Keitaro asked, trying to suppress the laugh trying to escape his throat.

"Yeah, um," Naru answered, backpedaling away from Keitaro, nearly tripping over the chair right next to her in the process. She blushed furiously at her own clumsiness and stammered, trying to act nonchalant and failing miserably, "I've got a few things I need to do, so I'm gonna go now. I'll talk to you later." She then fled the scene like a criminal caught holding the bag.

Keitaro giggled a bit while watching Naru run away, then turned his attention back to the arm she was holding. "I'm never washing this arm again," he said to himself.

* * *

Naru shut herself into her room, letting out a relieved sigh as the door slapped closed behind her. She immediately became aware of her heart pounding loudly and quickly in her chest over the silence of the room. She glanced at her hand, which she had grasped Keitaro's arm with and her eyes widened. 

After several moments, Naru laughed and shook her head in denial. "No," she declared to herself defiantly before sitting at her heated table to study. Unfortunately for her, her session would be unfruitful, as her mind continually strayed back to what happened in the common room.

* * *

"So, that explains it," Motoko said, letting of Kitsune's explanation sink in. 

A shivering Shinobu quickly stepped into the hot spring, letting the heat sink into her flesh. "But that doesn't seem like something sempai would do," she said.

"Believe me, Shinobu," Kitsune explained, arching her back in a slow stretch, "I didn't think so either. You pretty much have to see it to believe it."

Mutsumi, sitting right next to Kitsune, began to giggle. "It seems you were quite impressed with him, then?"

Kitsune peeked out of the corner of her eye at Mutsumi. "In a completely platonic way, yes, I was."

Naru finished rinsing her body in the side pool by dumping a bucket of lukewarm water over her head. "It's so damn cold," she complained, skipping over to where the others were and plopping into the water, unceremoniously splashing Su in the process.

Wiping the water from her face, Su said flatly, "I miss playing with him. It's boring without him around."

"Granted," Naru said, finding a spot to sit and relax, "things haven't been as exciting as they used to be, but I think it's a good thing."

"How so?" Motoko asked.

Before Naru could respond, Kitsune took the initiative. "Can any of you remember the last time Keitaro 'slipped' and ran into you, grabbing your breasts, peeking on you by accident, or anything perverted lately for that matter?"

Naru held her tongue. She had long since acknowledged Keitaro was not culpable for his inadvertent squeeze when she nearly fell to her death a few days ago. The continued silence answered Kitsune's question well enough on its own.

"Even still," Motoko finally said, "I'm sure you all would agree with me when I say he is still hiding something."

Shinobu, always playing the devil's advocate when the other girls ganged up on Keitaro, did not miss a beat. "Or maybe he just doesn't want us in his business. Isn't that what he said to you, Narusegawa-sempai?"

Naru nodded slowly. "That's true enough, but I think we all know him well enough to believe that Motoko is correct in her thinking. There's just something not right about all of this."

"Why not just ask him?" Mutsumi asked, playing the part of honesty barometer.

"I guess that worked for me," Kitsune responded, "but only after I had backed him into a corner. That guy is pretty good at keeping things hush-hush."

Everyone's eyes drifted down towards the steaming water they were soaking in. If Kitsune of all people said Keitaro was good at keeping secrets, it was the truth.

Naru tried to lighten the mood. "Come on, this is Keitaro we are talking about. It's not like he's trying to do anything dangerous. How bad could it be?"

* * *

Punch after punch rained down on Keitaro, as Ippo had him pressed against the ropes. Keitaro tried to lean back against them to create space between he and Ippo, but Ippo was practically standing on Keitaro's feet. 

"So much for the rope-a-dope strategy," Aoki muttered, watching his charge take a tremendous beating in the far corner of the ring.

"Sure, it might be a good strategy against a normal opponent," Takamura said, watching the fight closely. "Keitaro is good at taking punches and Ippo is a proto-typical infighter that looks to finish a fight with one hard punch."

"However," Kamogawa interrupted, stepping up onto the apron with the other two boxers. "The kid's stamina has improved significantly since his last fight. He could pound away on Urashima for the full six rounds and not get tired."

DING

Keitaro's punishment for listening to Aoki's well-meaning but useless advice at last ended with the sound of the bell, ending the sparring session.

"Way to hang in there, Keitaro-san," Ippo cheerfully exclaimed. "It felt like I was punching a boulder there."

Keitaro lowered his weary arms. He was panting heavily after absorbing some of Ippo's tremendous power shots. "Well, it felt like I was getting hit with a sledgehammer. Your power is scary."

"Your chin is pretty scary too. I don't think any rookie pro could possibly knock you out," Ippo said.

Keitaro chuckled, gazing down at the canvas. "Thanks," he offered plainly. It hurt to think that he couldn't step foot in the ring in a real match, but he never let it look like it bothered him too much. He was more than happy to help the others prepare for their upcoming matches.

Kimura helped Keitaro remove his headgear. "See what happens when you listen to Aoki?" he asked him rhetorically.

Aoki scoffed at his friend, but offered no other reply.

"It's alright," Keitaro said. "I didn't stand a chance against that rush anyway. It's not like I can see him normally, and he is crazy-fast for an in-fighter. He was like a blur out there."

"I know the feeling. He's gotten really good at cutting off the ring," Kimura said, his voice seething with annoyance. As an out-boxer, he would know that fighting a fast brawler is the worst-case scenario for any long-range fighter.

"Sometimes you just need to take the fight to him," Takamura noted. "There are times where you can't just run away or cover up. As silly as it sounds, exchanging punches with someone is the best strategy in certain situations."

"Not against Ippo," Aoki said, trying to defend his all-defense plan. "Everyone that has tried to stand toe-to-toe with him has gotten knocked out."

"Honestly," Ippo said, overhearing the conversation as he approached the others, "I think I've been lucky up to this point. I've been close to losing so many times that I feel fortunate to have won all my matches."

"There's no such thing as luck in the ring," Kamogawa grunted, annoyed that his boxer would have so little confidence. "You are either more prepared than your opponent or you are not. Winning in any case proves you are the superior boxer."

"Yes, sir," Ippo barked, knowing he was being admonished.

"And we are going to make damn sure that you are better prepared than Vorg," Kamogawa continued.

"Yes, sir," Ippo returned again.

"Now go hit the showers. Get some rest tonight, because tomorrow I'm going to show you hell," Kamogawa said with a smile, a glint playing in his eye.

Keitaro noticed Takamura, Aoki, and Kimura cringe inward instinctively, while Ippo just nodded his head and ran off to the locker room. "Poor Ippo," Aoki muttered.

"So glad I'm not him," Kimura whispered.

"That Ippo sure is a masochist," Takamura noted.

Kamogawa started waving his cane around like a mad berserker. "What the hell are you three still doing here? Get the hell out of the ring and hit the bags!" With that warning, the three scampered off like a pack of cats being threatened by a dog.

"Keitaro-kun?" Yagi asked, getting Keitaro's attention. "The coach wants to meet with you in his office in fifteen minutes. Get yourself cleaned up and meet us in there."

"Okay," Keitaro replied, watching Kamogawa and Yagi walk towards the coach's office. He blinked out of his reverie and jumped down from the ring apron to the floor and ran to the locker room.

Keitaro learned quickly to manage his time wisely while in the gym. It seemed the coach always wanted him five minutes before it would be reasonable and prudent. However, Keitaro figured out a few short cuts in his routine, and within ten minutes, he was knocking on the door to the office, freshly showered and in street clothes.

"Come in," Keitaro heard from beyond the portal. He let himself in and took a seat after Yagi motioned for him to sit.

Kamogawa brooded over Keitaro for a few minutes, making the ronin feel a little nervous before he finally asked, "So what can I do for you, coach?"

"I'm going to be blunt," Kamogawa started, "no one really expected much out of you when you first came here. In fact, even now I'm not completely certain about you."

As Kamogawa continued, Keitaro could feel his heart sink deep into his stomach. He was sure he was going to be asked to not return.

"I really don't have the time to focus on much more than that big buffoon and the kid. However," Kamogawa paused, and looked towards Yagi, who nodded in response.

"Here, Keitaro-kun," Yagi said, handing Keitaro a tri-fold brochure. It read, "FAQ's about Laser Corrective Eye Surgery."

"What is this about?" Keitaro asked, pointing at the brochure.

"You've got potential, kid, as much as I hate to admit it," Kamogawa said with a grin. "It would be a shame to see it go unused because of a repairable defect."

"You mean if I?"

Kamogawa nodded. "However, it won't be quite as simple as you think. You still have to prove that your new sight is effective in the ring before I send you off to the pro-test."

Keitaro opened the brochure, staring intently at the computer-generated images of the inside of a human eyeball. He felt the world opening to him, like a huge door had opened wide to reveal an expansive plain covered in lush greenery. However, he hesitated. "I'll really need to think about this," he admitted truthfully.

"We understand," Yagi said with an approving nod. "The procedure is not without risks. You should think hard about it before you make a decision either way."

"My personal optometrist's business card is in there," Kamogawa followed. "He is one of the best in the Pacific. If you decide to go ahead with this, I've let him know about you. Don't be afraid to call him and set up an appointment."

Keitaro stood up and bowed politely. "Thank you both very much!"

"You're welcome, Keitaro-kun."

"Go home and rest up," Kamogawa ordered Keitaro. "I still want you back here tomorrow to help with sparring."

"Yes, sir!" Keitaro let himself out of the office, reading the material in the brochure intently. This was more than just something that would allow him to turn pro. It could potentially change his whole life. And it would be much more difficult to hide the results of such a procedure from the girls at home. Once again, Keitaro found himself at a major crossroad, this one much more difficult than the last.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro makes a string of decisions that will forever change his destiny. Boxing or Toudai? Where does his love lie? Find out next time on Hajime no Keitaro!!!

Author's Note: Thanks all for your supportive reviews during the course of this story. It's really spurring me forward. Again, I need to thank Mike for pre-reading to make sure everything is in its place. Look forward to more exciting chapters from here on. I promise, we'll be getting to the action soon!


	8. Final Choice

Hajime no Keitaro: Final Choice

While Keitaro was initially excited about his opportunity to gain perfect vision without the need for his bulky glasses, after reading the warnings and potential side effects of his procedure, he was no longer sure about deciding to go along with it. What worried him most was the fact that he still may require eyeglasses or contacts after the procedure, and that he might even lose what vision he has. Even worse was the warning that read, "Those who participate in high-impact contact sports (ie boxing, wrestling, martial arts) or other activities where blows to the face and eyes are common may not be good candidates for refractive surgery".

Despite these concerns, Keitaro decided during his train ride back to Hinata Onsen that he would at the very least make an appointment with the optometrist Kamogawa recommended. If the doctor suggested that Keitaro should not have the procedure done, he would follow that advice. He was not one to take big risks, especially with something as important as his eyesight.

Deciding not to sleep on it, Keitaro telephoned the doctor with the number written on the card given to him at the gym as soon as he was able to make the call in secret. Luckily, there was an appointment time available early the next week, and Keitaro gladly accepted the appointment time. It landed on a day where no one would be around to question him about where he was going and what he was doing.

As time flies while waiting for an important appointment, so it did for Keitaro. He announced himself at the reception desk, and the middle-aged lady, kind enough for her particular position, directed him to sit down in the small, but comfortable waiting area. The room was painted a soft shade of white, and several floral pictures decorated the otherwise plain looking office room. The leather furniture and solid oak furnishings lent an aura of luxury to the space.

After a few short minutes, the lady called his name, but to his chagrin, she merely handed him several pages of mundane documents concerning his vision and insurance information, instructing him to fill the forms out completely. Keitaro smiled warmly despite the woman's patronizing tone, and he sat once again with a clipboard and pen in hand to fill out the documentation.

After reading, re-reading, and carefully completing the forms, Keitaro stood and returned the clipboard to the lady behind the counter. She thanked him with strained politeness and directed him to once again take a seat, telling him the doctor would be with him in a few minutes. Naturally, a "few" minutes turned to twenty, and Keitaro's reading of a girl's teen magazine article was interrupted by a side door next to the reception desk opening. A tall, lanky, but handsome man in his 40's stepped through the portal and said, "Keitaro Urashima?"

"That's me," Keitaro responded politely, quickly abandoning his magazine and springing to his feet. The man standing in front of him was wearing casual street clothes, consisting of a plain, solid blue t-shirt and blue jeans under his white lab coat.

"Whoa, you are quite light on your feet there, aren't you?" the man asked, obviously a bit surprised at Keitaro's sudden burst of energy.

The man held out his hand, and Keitaro shook it firmly with his own. "Yeah, a bit, I suppose. I was getting a bit restless."

"Sorry about the wait. I'm Doctor Nomura. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you from Coach Kamogawa."

Keitaro suddenly felt naked standing in the waiting room. His reaction was obviously not lost on Dr. Nomura. Chuckling openly, he said, "It was all good things, I assure you."

Keitaro visibly relaxed. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. The Coach tells me you are one of the best optometrists in the region."

Nomura chuckled again. "Well, if he insists."

Keitaro felt a little nervous about this haughty doctor, but he tried his best not to show it.

"Well, let's get down to business, shall we?" Nomura asked, motioning Keitaro through the door to the examination area.

Keitaro followed Dr. Nomura through a small, unadorned hallway when he opened a door and motioned for Keitaro to step in. Inside the room were devices Keitaro was well acquainted with: vision-testing equipment.

Nomura could sense Keitaro's uneasiness about the situation. "Sorry about all this. I'm sure you are sick and tired of having your eyesight tested. But in order to make sure refractive surgery is right for your situation, I've got to run through all the basic tests."

"I understand," Keitaro said with a nod, seating himself in front of the large scope in the middle of the room. He went through this process at least once in every two years of his life since he was six. He knew the routine like the back of his hand. Thankfully, Dr. Nomura also knew his way around these tests, and they were hardly time consuming.

About an hour later, Keitaro was seated across from Dr. Nomura in his personal office, discussing his situation. "Well, Mister Urashima, it looks like you have moderate to high-grade astigmatism in both of your eyes."

Keitaro nodded his head knowingly. He had heard that from a number of different optometrists. Again, Nomura could sense Keitaro's anxiousness. "But I'm willing to guess you've heard all this nonsense before, haven't you?" Nomura tossed all the papers about Keitaro's vision to the side, save one labeled "Treatment Options". That document made Keitaro sit up in his seat.

"First of all, as a physician I need to warn you that the options on this document carry no guarantee of success. In fact, it is entirely possible that these treatments could cause total and irreversible blindness. Do you understand the risks associated with these procedures?"

"Yes, I do," Keitaro responded. In fact, he could not loose them from his memory the entire week prior to this meeting.

"Okay. Well, just so you know, I have never had a client that experienced any side effects other than temporary loss of night-vision, and those people were almost legally blind before coming to see me. So you can put your mind at ease."

Again, Keitaro nodded. "Thanks."

"I'm going to recommend a traditional laser refractive surgery," Dr. Nomura began, leading Keitaro through all of his options, including a more barbaric manual surgery, which immediately turned him off. However, Nomura meant that particular option as a joke, trying to lighten up the serious conversation.

By the time Keitaro bowed before the good doctor for the last time and stepped out of his office, he was confident he was well versed in exactly what to expect should he choose to have the procedure. However, he still had yet to decide one way or the other. It was truly a life-altering choice, and a risky one at that. Although Nomura said during the interview on many occasions that he never had a patient with severe side effects, he knew there was a first time for everything. And with Keitaro's horrible luck, who knows what may happen?

Keitaro at last decided that he needed to consult with someone he could confide in about all of this. And he knew just whom to ask.

* * *

A few short hours later, Keitaro was seated at the Hinata Teahouse, his aunt Haruka setting out some tea and snacks. "It's been a while, Keitaro," Haruka said in her usual even tone "You shouldn't be such a stranger. What brings you here?" 

"I need some advice, Au-er, Haruka-san," Keitaro said, stopping just before saying Aunt, which no doubt would have cost him a whack upside his head.

"Is that all I'm good for? Giving you advice when you need it?" Haruka asked, taking a seat across from her nephew.

"No," Keitaro answered, shaking his head. "It's just that you are the only one around here I can really confide in without feeling…judged."

Haruka glanced at Keitaro suspiciously, lighting a cigarette in the process. She pulled a long drag from it before saying, "It must be something pretty serious."

Keitaro took a small sip of the tea set out in front of him, nodding. He swallowed and said, "It's life-changing."

"Well, I'm all ears, so lay it on me," Haruka said, her voice not raising in pitch at all despite Keitaro's admission.

So Keitaro set about telling Haruka everything that had occurred in the last eight months, describing everything in great detail. Haruka sat and listened attentively, letting Keitaro tell his story uninterrupted. Thirty minutes later, Keitaro finally finished. "That's some story," Haruka admitted, putting out her spent cigarette butt. Her voice did raise half an octave that time.

"I don't know what to do," Keitaro said, gazing into his teacup. "This is such a huge risk, and it could cost me everything I've spent the last four years working towards; and maybe even more than four years; more like fifteen."

"I'll admit, this was probably the last thing I was expecting you to tell me. No one would say you are a very athletic person. In fact, you are one of the biggest klutzes I know."

Keitaro smirked. It was the truth, but he did not have to like it.

"What do Naru and the others think?" Haruka asked.

"They don't know anything about this," Keitaro said. "Like I told you, I've been hiding this from them for all this time."

"Why?" Haruka asked the obvious question.

Keitaro moved his mouth to speak, but his mind drew a complete and utter blank. Was there a good reason to lie by omission for so long to the people he was supposed to care about? He could only think of one reason, and he knew as he said it that it was a terribly weak excuse, "Because I'm scared, I suppose."

"Scared of what?" Haruka continued her probe.

"My pride being hurt," Keitaro answered immediately.

Haruka chuckled a bit. "If you are honestly thinking about pursuing this, you have a lot more to worry about than your pride being hurt."

"I know, I know," Keitaro said, frustrated with his indecisiveness. "I just don't want them to think that I would be abandoning them."

"So don't."

"Easier said than done," Keitaro chuckled.

"Is it?"

Keitaro paused for a moment. "What are you saying, Haruka-san? Do you really think they would be as accepting of this as you are?"

"If they care as much about you as you care about them, absolutely. And if not," Haruka shrugged, "who are they to tell you what to do? You're a big boy, aren't you?"

Keitaro sighed. "So you think I should tell them?"

"I can't tell you what to do," Haruka offered dismissively. "But I will support you one-hundred percent, either way."

Keitaro grinned. "I understand, Haruka-san. I think I know what to do now."

"Good," Haruka said, standing up and stretching out her legs. "Now why don't you get out of here and go do it."

Keitaro stood up as well. "Sure," he said, bowing before his aunt and moving to leave the teahouse.

"Oh, Keitaro!"

Keitaro turned around to look at his aunt, who was wearing a smile. "When you have your first match, you'll get me a ticket, right?"

"I never said that was my decision, did I?" Keitaro asked cryptically, winking at Haruka before stepping out of the building.

Haruka laughed and shook her head, turning to clean up the table she and Keitaro had occupied. "It's written all over your face, you dummy."

* * *

"I'm home," Keitaro belted, alerting all those within earshot of his presence inside Hinata Sou. 

"Welcome back," Keitaro heard Shinobu's muffled voice from beyond the door across the common room. Keitaro dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, slipping his feet into his slippers and walked towards the direction of the voice.

Keitaro stepped into the kitchen, where Shinobu was busy washing dishes in the sink. "Hey, Shinobu-chan," Keitaro greeted the teenager.

"Hi, Urashima-sempai," Shinobu replied, turning her head in Keitaro's direction and smiling at him. "How was your appointment?"

"Yeah, well, I'll be more than happy to talk about that with you, but I was hoping you could do me a favor first."

Shinobu shut the water in the sink off and turned to face her senior, drying her hands with her apron. "Sure, what can I do for you?"

"Is everyone home right now?" Keitaro asked.

Shinobu thought about it for a moment, tapping her finger on her lips. "I think so. Narusegawa-sempai just got back from her cram session, and she was the only one, other than you, that missed dinner."

"Great. Would you mind getting everyone together for me? I have some important business to discuss with everybody."

"Y-yeah, sure. Just give me a few minutes," Shinobu said, removing her apron and walking out of the room. Her mind raced at the seriousness of Keitaro's tone when he asked her his favor. Was it something good? Bad? Worse?

Keitaro helped himself to a can of juice from the refrigerator. "Here goes nothing," he said to himself.

Ten minutes later, after Kitsune dragged her sleepy body down the stairs and plopped onto the sofa, with no little help from Shinobu, everyone had arrived for Keitaro's official-sounding meeting. "Thanks, Shinobu-chan."

"No problem," Shinobu replied, taking a seat on the arm of the chair Motoko was seated in.

Keitaro exhaled, looking at each of his tenants. They each peered at him attentively, looking every bit as nervous as he did. Rarely did meetings such as this end positively. In fact, the last time such a meeting was called was when Grandma Hina declared she was stepping down as manager. Silently, each of the tenants hoped this was not a repeat of that performance.

"These past months," Keitaro started, "I realize that I really have not been honest with all of you. Sure, there are things you know about what I have been up to now, thanks in no small part to one of you in particular, who shall remain nameless." Keitaro glanced at Kitsune, who remained expressionless. There was no need to make such a reference; they all knew where the information came from.

"However," Keitaro continued, "I still have not been exactly honest about everything that has happened, and what is still happening even now."

"Are you leaving us, Urashima-sempai?" Shinobu asked, her eyes watering heavily. Her lip quivered slightly as she asked her question.

The question shocked Keitaro. "Oh, goodness, no!" he answered immediately. "I'm not going anywhere. This has nothing to do with my status as the manager of this place. You don't need to worry about that."

Shinobu sniffled and nodded, a smile playing across her face. Unbeknownst to Keitaro, the other tenants seated around him also visibly relaxed after that revelation.

"I'm sure many of you, if not all of you, remember that afternoon this summer at the beach teahouse when those strange men came after hours, right?" Keitaro asked, looking around at the girls' faces around him. They all nodded their heads.

"Well, they left an impression on me, more than any of you may think. And…"

"No way!" Kitsune shouted, as if Keitaro's words had injected strength into her tired body. She shot upright, looking at him with pure, unadulterated astonishment. It was as if a veil had suddenly been lifted, and everything, at last, made perfect sense. "Is THAT what you have been doing?"

"What are you talking about, Kitsune?" Naru asked. "He was just about to tell us." The others were also disquieted by Kitsune's sudden outburst.

"It's true," Keitaro admitted.

"What is?" Motoko asked.

"Boxing," Kitsune said, still disbelieving even her own words. Keitaro nodded his head sheepishly.

"What is boxing?" Su asked. "Does it taste good?"

"It's when two people fight each other in a ring," Mutsumi explained to the young foreigner.

Su beamed. "That sounds like fun!"

"Wait a minute," Naru said, waving her arms around, trying to wrap her brain around this new revelation. "You, Keitaro Urashima, are into boxing?" she asked. The very idea seemed incredulous.

"If this is your idea of a joke, Urashima, no one here is laughing," Motoko said, her voice rising in anger.

"This is no joke," Keitaro said as sternly as he could in this situation. He knew he needed to coral the situation before it spiraled beyond his ability to control. "And apparently, my coach thinks I have potential to become a pro."

A thunderous silence echoed through the halls of Hinata Sou. Keitaro's words lingered in the air, and his audience slowly absorbed them. At once, all of the girls began to belt out in laughter.

"That's a good one, Keitaro," Kitsune cheered, giggling madly.

"Now that is a funny joke, Urashima," Motoko said hoarsely between belly laughs.

Su rolled out of her seat, rolling on the floor laughing. Even Shinobu was giggling outwardly.

Keitaro sighed and hanged his head. This was exactly what he feared would happen: no one would believe him. Despite this, he managed to keep his emotions in check, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the raucous laughter around him to die down.

"You may choose not to believe me," Keitaro finally said once the laughter quieted, "but it doesn't make it any less true."

"You really can't be serious," Naru said, fighting back more giggles.

"I'm dead serious about this," Keitaro said, dropping his eyesight brochure on the table for all to see. "And I've decided to make it happen."

"Frequently asked questions about laser corrective eye surgery?" Motoko asked. "What is this about?"

"The problem is my vision," Keitaro explained. "I can't wear glasses or contacts in the ring, obviously. With this, I'll be able to see my opponent, and after a few months of training, I'll be able to take the pro test. At least, that's what I've been told."

It finally began to sink in that Keitaro was telling the truth. Naturally, it was the last thing each of them was expecting. Keitaro remained silent for a moment, letting the information sink in.

Naru broke the silence. "I've heard that some people have had serious complications after having this surgery."

"The optometrist I've consulted with is one of the best around," Keitaro responded.

"What about your duties here?" Motoko asked.

"There's nothing about this that would keep me from doing exactly as I've done here the past year or so," Keitaro reassured Motoko.

"What about Tokyo University?" Mutsumi asked.

"Right," Naru agreed with the eldest of the ronins. "Have you even thought about any of this?"

"Trust me, I've put more thought into this than any of you realize. This hasn't been some trivial thing for me. I haven't given up on Tokyo University. None of my plans are changing."

"This is just bizarre," Kitsune admitted. "This just seems so unlike you. But the way you talked about that match on television a few weeks ago makes be believe what you are saying is the truth."

Keitaro nodded. "I didn't even know I had this in me. It's strange for me too; even a bit scary."

"I guess the real question about all of this is: Why?" Shinobu asked.

Keitaro smiled weakly. "Because I have been a weakling throughout my life, and I want to change."

Motoko nodded her head. That was a response she could respect. However, not everyone thought positively about his answer.

"And, meanwhile, you are going to forget about who you are and where you've been," Naru said angrily. Keitaro shook his head to protest, but Naru's had built up far too much momentum. "And you'll forget about the people who care about you, and the promises you've made. Fine then, do what you want! See if I give a damn!"

Naru stood up and stormed up the stairs, ignoring Keitaro's calls for her to come back. Keitaro let out a forlorn sigh, and turned back to the others that remained. "Meeting's over," he declared.

* * *

Naru threw the door to her room open and slammed it shut behind her. After a minute of pacing around, her true emotions caught up to her. She fell to her knees in front of the plate covering the hole in the floor, clutched her Liddo-kun doll in her arms and wept.

* * *

"How have you been, Keitaro?" Doctor Nomura asked. 

"As good as can be expected," Keitaro responded.

"Nervous?"

"Honestly, yes."

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

"Thanks, Doctor."

Doctor Nomura held a small metal device in his hand, and he showed it to Keitaro. "This is an eye speculum. This will hold your eyelid open during the procedure…"

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: To those with eyes, let them see...The results of Keitaro's surgery, and mounting tensions at home. At long last, will Naru and Keitaro reach a tipping point? Find out next time on Hajime no Keitaro!

A/N: For all those who thought I was starting to take too long between chapters: "Nyah!" For all others: Thanks for reading and reviewing! PS: Thanks again for your input, Mike.


	9. Those With Eyes

Hajime no Keitaro: Those With Eyes…

Keitaro squinted under the harsh lights of Nomura's office. In reality, the lighting in his office was quite dim, but following his refractive surgery, any source of light sent a shockwave of pain through his sensitive eyes. He blinked several times, fighting against the instinct to rub his eyes with his hands. The glare from his eyes faded gradually, and eventually only a tiny halo remained around the overhead lighting.

"How is it?" the optometrist asked.

Keitaro looked around the room, trying to focus on certain items, but to no avail. "Nothing is coming into focus, no matter how hard I try."

Dr. Nomura scribbled a few notes onto a sheet of paper on his clipboard before saying, "Now remove your eyeglasses and tell me what you see."

Keitaro lifted his glasses away from his nose, and allowed his eyes to adjust without the lenses. He looked at his hand, watching his fingers come into focus, the deep lines in his knuckles sharpening, and the finer lines in his palm appearing with perfect clarity.

"I don't believe it," Keitaro mumbled.

"I've heard that one before," Nomura chuckled.

Keitaro looked up at Nomura, and it was as if he had lived with clouds swirling inside his pupils his whole life and they were now removed as if by magic. He noticed for the first time the minute age marks on Nomura's face, the slight graying of his hair, and even the blue pen streaks over the pocket of his white lab coat. The glasses he used for so many years did nothing compared to what he now saw with his own naked eyes.

"The awestruck look on your face tells me things are looking good," Nomura said with a chuckle. It was a horrible pun he used with all of his patients, but he never failed to amuse himself with it. After scribbling a few more notes on his clipboard, he said, "Let's take a little walk and see how your vision adjusts to movement."

Keitaro stood and gingerly followed Nomura out of his office. With the images coming into his brain appearing so sharp and clear, Keitaro flinched at certain objects, as they now seemed much closer than they were before his procedure.

"Take your time, Keitaro," Nomura encouraged.

"It's like I'm seeing the world for what it is for the first time in my life," Keitaro noted.

"It's amazing, isn't it? My humble little office," Nomura said with mock adulation as he motioned Keitaro to enter the screening room.

Everything was in the same place, Keitaro noted, but it looked slightly different behind his new sight. "If I ever see one of these rooms again after this, it will be far too soon," he said.

"Well, let's make this the last time then," Nomura replied, pointing at the chair in the middle of the room. Keitaro sat and placed his chin on the resting plate. "Tell me when the letters are in focus."

click…click…click…click…click

"There," Keitaro said at last.

After Nomura jotted down another note, he turned another knob on the machine, blocking the vision in Keitaro's left eye. He asked, "Can you see the bottom line clearly?"

"Yes."

"Read the letters from left to right."

"A…R…U…T…G…X…L…W…Z…M…O."

"Very good." Nomura turned the same knob in the opposite direction, blocking Keitaro's left eye. "Can you still see the bottom line?"

"Yes."

"Read the letters from right to left this time."

"O…M…Z…W…L…X…G…T…U…R…A."

"Perfect, now read it again from left to right, this time with both eyes," Nomura said, turning the knob again so Keitaro could see with both eyes. Keitaro repeated the letters perfectly one last time. "Awesome," Nomura said, sitting at the desk in the corner of the examination room while Keitaro turned in his seat to face him.

"Twenty-fifteen," Nomura noted aloud, making one last note on his clipboard.

"Come again?" Keitaro asked.

"You've got 20/15 vision in both eyes," Nomura said with a smug grin.

Keitaro blinked, amazed at the difference made from such a simple procedure.

"You are going to need time for your eyes to heal from the trauma inflicted on them. I'm going to suggest that you do not spar at all for the next three months."

The length of his layover got Keitaro's attention. "Three months?" he asked. He was expecting something more along the line of three weeks. But three months? That was like an eternity to him.

The doctor nodded his head. "I know it seems like forever, but this is something that will affect you for the rest of your life. It's essential that your eyes have sufficient time to heal. Besides, you would be worthless in a spar right now. Your depth perception right now is like a three-year-old's. Your brain needs to learn how to see straight again, and that takes a lot of time."

They were words Keitaro did not want to hear, but he needed to hear them, nonetheless. He nodded his head, trusting what Nomura had told him.

"That doesn't mean you can't train though," Nomura added. "I'm going to give you a few exercises to help strengthen your vision and your reflexes. I want you to do these exercises for at least thirty minutes a day. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Keitaro affirmed.

"Well, then," Nomura said as he stood. Keitaro immediately followed suit. "Looks like we're done here. Take this down to the pharmacy down the block. Make sure you tell them to give you the good stuff." Doctor Nomura handed Keitaro a script for prescription strength eye drops, as well as a sheet of paper describing three different training exercises to strengthen his sight.

"Thanks a lot for your help, Doc," Keitaro said, bowing low at the waist.

"Not a problem," Nomura responded, slapping Keitaro on the back. "I'll see you next month for your check-up."

"Yes, you will."

* * *

Keitaro strode slowly down the street, clutching the bag containing his prescription in one hand, and Nomura's hastily scribbled notes in the other. Keitaro fought against his instinct to squint at the paper in his hand as he usually did without his glasses, mentally berating himself each time he did so.

At first he thought his vision might have been too clear, ironically. However, he slowly started to become accustomed to his new eyesight. He gazed off into the distance several times, trying to find the object furthest from him that he could clearly focus on. He noticed a jogger running up a hill in the distance, at least a mile away. He could tell that the man was laboring from his sweat-stained shirt. But it was the level of detail, down to the man's short black hair, that astounded Keitaro.

Before he realized it, Keitaro bumped into another pedestrian, nearly knocking the middle-aged lady to the ground. "Watch where you are going, will you?" she grumbled, pulling her arm away from Keitaro's grasp as he tried to keep her from falling.

"I'm very sorry," Keitaro said, bowing apologetically again and again. After the woman finally moved off, cursing him in hushed tones, Keitaro breathed a sigh of relief and resolved to watch where he was going until he got back home.

* * *

Keitaro climbed the last of the steps leading to the expansive courtyard in front of Hinata Sou, and the view took his breath away. He never realized before just how beautiful the rickety old building was, and he could hardly wait to experience it from the inside for the first time all over again. He ran to the door and threw it open with a flourish.

Keitaro peered over the foyer and common room, taking in the sights of his building as he closed the door behind him. Even with his improved vision, he failed to notice the blond girl's head poke up from one of the chairs in the conversation area.

"Welcome home, Keitaro!" Su cheered, bounding out of her seat in Keitaro's direction.

Keitaro flinched when he saw the girl, curling his head out of the way. "Su-chan, please don't!"

Su landed right in front of Keitaro, and she grinned fiendishly at him. "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

Keitaro kept his head hidden. "I'm just fine, but you can't jump on me or kick me like you are used to right now."

"I already heard from Haruka," Su noted. "I was just saying hi!"

"Aunt Haruka is here?" Keitaro asked, raising his head.

"I heard that, Keitaro!" Haruka hissed, raising her head over the chair. She was sitting in the sofa, in between Naru and Kitsune. In fact, everyone was in the room. "It's Haruka-san!"

"Sorry…I'm home, everyone," Keitaro said meekly, waving at the group.

The response was lukewarm at best. With Naru in the room, one could cut the tension with a knife. She had her head turned away, obviously trying to ignore Keitaro's presence. He approached slowly, looking at each of them in turn.

"You do look pretty cute without those glasses," Haruka observed aloud. "I assume everything went well then?"

Keitaro's face colored slightly at Haruka's compliment. He saw Naru glance in his direction for a split second before she turned away again. "Yeah, everything went great. My eyes are a little sore and dry, but I got a prescription for that, so…" his voice trailed off. He couldn't stand how nervous everyone was around him. They all seemed to be waiting for him to say something specific. "You all look great…everything looks great."

With that, much of the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. The questions soon came one after another:

"Did it hurt?"

"How well can you see now?"

"Am I as sexy as you thought I was?"

Keitaro kept looking directly at Naru throughout the battery of questions. She warmed up slowly, and eventually she looked directly at him, and Keitaro saw her whole face for the first time. If possible, he thought she was even more beautiful than she was before. She looked adorable to him even when she was pouting. He smiled at her, and she quickly turned her head away from him.

After a while, a realization suddenly struck Keitaro's mind. "Oh that's right! I need to call the coach and let him know!" Keitaro jumped out of his chair and disappeared down the hallway to where the telephone was.

Naru turned back to the group and whispered, "See what I was telling you? He is all about this boxing thing. The moment it pops into his head, he is off and running, completely forgetting about all of us."

Haruka reached into her pocket and retrieved her half-crushed pack of cigarettes. "If you had been paying any attention, Naru, I think you would have noticed that it's the other way around."

"I can see where Naru-sempai is coming from with this," Motoko noted calmly.

"Thank you, Motoko-chan," Naru said smugly.

Su giggled. "He kept staring at Naru like there was something on her face."

"What are you talking about, Su-chan?" Naru grumbled.

"It's true, isn't it?" Mutsumi asked the others, who nodded approvingly.

"Urashima-sempai wants to make up with Narusegawa-sempai," Shinobu said.

Naru shrugged defensively. "I just think he's being a little selfish with this thing, that's all. If he apologized for it, I would accept that."

Kitsune smirked openly at her best friend, calling her bluff. Naru noticed this immediately.

"I would, Kitsune," Naru insisted.

"Yeah…we'll see," Kitsune responded.

* * *

"_I'm glad to hear that your surgery was a success, kid,"_ Kamogawa said over the phone line.

"Yeah. I'm really excited to start my training. I'm looking forward to the pro-test," Keitaro said cheerfully.

"_Don't get your hopes up too soon. The pro-test for someone like you is still a long way off. Don't get complacent."_

"Yes, sir!"

"_I want you back here in one week. We're going to start your training then. In the meantime, do those exercises Doctor Nomura gave to you."_

"I will. Thank you very much!"

The other line went dead, and Keitaro hung up the phone. Barely able to contain his excitement, he punched his open palm, creating a loud slapping sound. "I'm ready," he said to himself.

* * *

Keitaro spent the next several days with a tennis ball practically attached to him at the hip. He dribbled it on the floor as he walked around the inn performing his chores. Occasionally he would stop to bounce the ball off the wall and catch it. At first, it was quite difficult for him to catch the ball, as he had next to no eye-to-hand coordination. He nearly broke several pieces of furniture stumbling to catch the ball that first day.

But he took to the task like a fish to water, and he was now able to toss the ball off the wall and catch it many times without even looking. He noticed his depth perception was now much sharper than before. He stopped nearly running into walls, furniture, and most importantly, his tenants.

The dryness in his eyes was persistently bothering him. So much so, in fact, that he kept his eye drops with him at all times. His eyes were so red one morning that Shinobu mistakenly thought he had been up all night crying, and she doted on him until she left for school.

In terms of interaction with the others, it was few and far between. Naru had most especially made herself scarce whenever Keitaro was around. At first he figured she was just giving him space, but he could feel the gap between them widening with each passing day. There was always tension between them, but this much pressure was unnatural.

At last, after Keitaro had finished his day's work on the fifth day after his surgery, he was bouncing his ball on the freshly polished hardwood floor on the third floor of the building when he stopped in front of room 302. Without thinking, he knocked on the door to Naru's room. A sense of dread washed over him, and he nearly bolted from the area when he heard Naru's voice say, "Who is it?"

Keitaro slapped himself in the face to calm his nerves. "Just relax, Keitaro. It's just Naru," he whispered to himself.

"Who is it, I said!?" Naru's voice boomed from beyond the door.

"It's me," Keitaro said, his voice cracking under the pressure.

"Who?" Naru asked again, turning from her table to look at the door, unable to place the voice outside her door.

"It's Keitaro."

"What do you want?" Naru asked, curling her legs into her chest.

Keitaro poked his finger at the door absentmindedly. "I need to talk to you."

Naru quickly glanced at herself and her room to make sure they were both presentable. "Alright, come in." Keitaro opened the door a crack and poked his head into the room. "I said you can come in," Naru said in annoyance.

Keitaro pulled the door open the rest of the way and let himself in. "Thanks." He shut the door behind him and took a seat across the table from Naru.

"So?" Naru asked, looking at Keitaro as if presence were a nuisance.

"I guess there's no other way to say this other than to just say it…"

"Say what?"

"I can't handle this, Naru," Keitaro said, looking at Naru squarely in the eyes.

Naru removed her glasses, placing them on the table in from of her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…this!" Keitaro exclaimed, motioning with his arms. "This distance. This tension. It's like you are avoiding me on purpose."

It was the truth, and Naru knew it. She was actively ignoring him, trying to get him to come to her, and it worked perfectly. But now that he was there, looking at her with such a forlorn expression, she didn't quite know what to say. May as well be honest, she thought. "I was…"

"Why? Why are you so upset with me?" Keitaro asked.

"You are changing. You are so different than you used to be. It's like I…we are losing you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Keitaro said, shaking his head.

"Not physically, at least right now. I guess I just don't know what to make of all this. Do you still even want to get into Tokyo University with Mutsumi and me?"

"Of course I do," Keitaro responded instantly.

"Then why all this interest in boxing?" Naru asked, leaning across the table.

"I…I need to know," Keitaro said.

"What do you need to know?"

"What it's like to be comfortable in my own skin. All my life I've been told that I am nothing but a failure. And it's true. I've never accomplished anything in my life. I've been nothing but a waste of space until now."

Naru stared at Keitaro in shock. What he had said made her feel more than a little guilty. She was one of the ones primarily responsible for his state of mind. "Sorry," she apologized.

Keitaro shook his head. "You don't have to apologize for speaking the truth. I've been living a lie for far too long. It's time I accepted who I really am."

"So you think all the answers to your problems in life will be solved by getting into a ring and getting beat up?"

"I don't know…maybe."

"Maybe? You are pinning all your hopes on a maybe?"

"I know none of this makes sense to you, or to anyone else for that matter. It's just something I have to do. I'll regret it for the rest of my life if I don't."

Naru leaned over the table, resting her hand in her hand. "Then do what you need to do. Nothing any of us say or do is going to stop you anyway, especially after you've come this far."

Keitaro beamed. "So you will support me?"

"I didn't say that," Naru replied. "I still disagree with what you are doing, for whatever reason it is you are doing it. I just said I'm not going to try to stop you. However, you still need to make it for all of our study sessions. I'll show no mercy on you if you don't!"

"I will, I promise," Keitaro said with glee.

"Now get out of here and do whatever it is you are doing," Naru said, dismissing Keitaro from her room.

He got the hint. "Okay then. Good night," Keitaro said, standing to leave.

"Good night, Keitaro," Naru replied.

The two shared a quick smile before Keitaro left Naru's room. Feeling much better about things now that they had a heart-to-heart, Keitaro skipped to the stairs and went back down to the second floor.

Naru felt better as well, but was not nearly as animated as Keitaro. She laid her head on the table, staring sideways at the far wall of her room, lost in deep thought.

* * *

Keitaro opened the door to Kamogawa Gym. "I'm back," he declared jovially. Expecting to be greeted by at least some of the people in the gym, he was disappointed by the complete lack of response to his entrance. Feeling like a complete reject, Keitaro sulked through the gym towards the locker room.

Halfway to his destination, Keitaro noticed a familiar face. "Hey, Kimura-san," he called out to the junior-lightweight, who was jumping rope, but he was met with only a puzzled reaction.

Keitaro continued on, noticing Aoki, who was hitting a speed-bag. "Hello, Aoki-san," he called out again. Aoki did a double take at Keitaro, looking him up and down, then turned his head back to the bag he was hitting.

"What's going on here?" Keitaro wondered. "Did everyone forget about me already?" Keitaro shook his head and entered the locker room to change. He quickly changed into his sweats, threw his street clothes into his locker, and walked towards the door back to the gym area.

"Who the hell are you?" he heard a voice boom from the shower area.

Keitaro looked over to see a glistening wet, but completely naked Takamura standing there with his hands on his hips, his privates in clear view of Keitaro's improved sight. He turned his head way quickly and responded, "Takamura-san, would you mind covering yourself up, please?"

Instead of complying with Keitaro's request, Takamura walked right over to Keitaro without a care in the world about his appearance. He snatched Keitaro by the collar, yanking him off the ground. "I said who the hell are you? I told you punks that the next one to come in here off the street would get a beating!"

Keitaro strained to breathe. "I'm Keitaro," he wheezed. _"Why the hell can't anyone remember me?"_ Keitaro's mind screamed out.

Takamura glared at Keitaro in disbelief, to which Keitaro made circles with his hands and put them in front of his eyes. Takamura's eyes shot open and he loosed Keitaro from his grasp. Keitaro fell on his behind, gasping for breath.

"Ah, my bad, Keitaro. I didn't recognize you without your big-ass glasses," Takamura said apologetically.

Keitaro looked up to see Takamura's junk directly in front of his face. He flinched away, snapping his eyes closed. "That's just fine, Takamura-san. Would you mind at least getting dressed?"

"Yeah, but wait up for me. I'll let everyone know you are back," Takamura replied before turning to head back to his locker.

Keitaro stood up, shaking his head. "There are things in life you cannot un-see," he muttered.

* * *

"Hey, everyone," Takamura shouted, slapping Keitaro hard on the back, "look what I found!"

All eyes looked in Takamura and Keitaro's direction, but no one seemed to either recognize or care about the man Takamura was introducing.

"Who the hell is that, anyway?" Aoki asked in annoyance.

"It's Keitaro, you dumb ass," Takamura growled. He slammed some sparring headgear on Keitaro's head. "See?"

Aoki and Kimura's jaws dropped. "Damn, it really is him," Kimura said under his breath.

Aoki laughed. "Sorry, man. I didn't recognize you without your glasses or headgear."

Keitaro shook his head and sighed, removing the headgear. These men were going to be the death of him. "It's alright. Water under the bridge."

"Ippo!" Takamura belted. "Keitaro is back!"

Ippo, who had been beating the tar out of a punching bag on the opposite side of the gym, looked over to see Keitaro, who waved at him. Ippo ran over to meet him. "Welcome back, Keitaro-san."

"Thanks. It's good to be back," Keitaro replied.

"So how did it go?" Ippo asked.

Keitaro spend the next few minutes explaining that his operation was a success, but he still lacked eye-hand coordination and depth perception, and told them he could not spar for the next three months.

"Damn, that's a long time," Aoki said sympathetically.

"At least you'll be able to build a solid foundation before you get back in the ring," Kimura added.

"But still, three months is an eternity for people like us," Ippo said with concern. "Are you going to be okay?"

Keitaro shrugged. "I've come this far. Why let something like more time get in the way?"

"I'm just upset that I don't get to have any fun with you for a while," Takamura pouted.

"Sorry, doctor's orders," Keitaro said in a mocking tone, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

"Don't get too excited, Keitaro," a raspy voice called out from behind the group. Their heads turned to notice Kamogawa standing there, holding his cane in front of him. "There is something Takamura can help you with that doesn't include sparring."

"Hey Coach," Keitaro said in greeting.

Kamogawa nodded in response. "I want the rest of you to do your roadwork now. For Keitaro, there will be some…special training."

* * *

Takamura laughed heartily. "I'm going to enjoy this!"

"Remember, this is a training exercise, so be serious about it," Kamogawa barked at his champion.

Keitaro was standing with his back to the back wall of the gym. Across from him were Kamogawa and Takamura. He was staring down the barrel of a tennis serve machine. "Why am I doing this?" Keitaro asked.

"I heard about those exercises you were doing from Doctor Nomura. Those are good for helping your eye-hand coordination, and I want you to keep doing them. However, while those exercises will help you hit your opponent, they do nothing to help you avoid being hit. And since you can't spar, well, this is the next best option," Kamogawa explained.

"For now, I want you to focus on defense. Put those protective goggles on and get into your fighting stance."

Keitaro slipped the goggles given to him over his head, adjusting them so they fit snugly over his eyes. He took his fighting stance and nodded.

Kamogawa nodded at Takamura, who turned the serve machine on. After a few seconds, a tennis ball fired out of the machine with an audible "thwoomp". The ball rocketed with blazing speed at Keitaro, who had no time to react before the ball struck him squarely on the forehead. "Ouch," Keitaro yelped.

Takamura laughed hoarsely at Keitaro, who was now sporting a bright red circle on his brow.

"So fast," Keitaro said. He didn't even flinch before the ball hit him.

"That's how fast you can expect to be hit with a jab," Kamogawa said stoically. "Weave your head back and forth. You need to learn to anticipate the punches before they come. These are the basics of defense."

Keitaro bobbed his head around, bouncing on his feet. Another ball shot out of the machine with blinding speed, hitting Keitaro in the shoulder. "Gah!" he growled.

"Stop the machine!" Kamogawa ordered. Takamura complied. "Get in there and show him how this is done."

Keitaro and Takamura switched places. Takamura squatted into his pose and nodded grimly. Kamogawa flipped the machine on while Keitaro observed, watching his eyes and his feet. A ball fired from the machine, and before Keitaro could even see it, the ball struck against the wall, then bounced past his feet.

"He dodged it so quickly!" Keitaro exclaimed.

"Just watch," Kamogawa said, turning a knob on the machine.

Balls began to stream out of the barrel of the machine, each one missing flesh and striking brick. Keitaro stood in awe as Takamura bobbed and weaved around each of the tennis balls, predicting where and how far he would need to move his body to avoid being struck.

"Amazing," Keitaro said.

Eventually, the machine ran out of ammunition, and there were balls littered all over the concrete floor in the alleyway behind the gym. There was not a single mark anywhere on Takamura's body.

"In three months, you need to be able to avoid all of these balls in the same manner. Only until then will I allow you to spar, and eventually take the pro test," Kamogawa said plainly to Keitaro.

Keitaro's eyes widened in shock. The balls were, at best, merely a blur to him. How could he possibly avoid so many balls in so little time? Was something like this even possible for him?

Regardless of the questions pouring into his mind, Keitaro looked at his coach squarely in the eyes. "Yes, sir!"

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Yet another rite of passage looms before Keitaro. This task could very well be the hardest yet for the ronin. Can he survive this harsh, painful training and advance ever closer to the pro test? Fino out next time on Hajime no Keitaro.


	10. The Secret To Defense

Hajime no Keitaro: The Secret to Defense

Keitaro managed to successfully dodge four balls in a row before the fifth smacked him squarely in the nose. He yelped and rubbed his nose with an ugly wince, walking away from the barrel of the tennis ball service machine. "What's the matter?" Takamura growled, switching the machine off. "In the ring, that would be nothing more than a light jab. Can't you even take that much before quitting?"

"This is really frustrating," Keitaro grumbled, kicking one of the balls littering the ground, sending it bounding across the concrete. "Every time I duck away from one, there's another right there to meet me. How can anyone move fast enough to avoid all of them?"

Takamura placed his hands on his hips. "If you can't figure this out, you may as well just give up. This teaches nothing more than basic defensive strategy."

"What do you mean?" Keitaro asked, mimicking what Takamura was doing.

A sly grin passed across Takamura's face. "It's more fun watching you try to figure it out. But you are sure going to feel like an idiot when you do. It's quite simple, actually."

"I hate you," Keitaro admitted truthfully.

"The feeling is mutual, kid. I could be doing things much more interesting than this. Get your ass back in front of the machine," he ordered his charge, pointing at the wall directly in line with the barrel of the machine.

Keitaro reluctantly stepped in front of the machine, kicking the balls lying there out of the way. He raised his hands and nodded at Takamura. Takamura flipped the machine back on and stepped back. "Don't walk away when you get hit this time. You are going to take punches in the ring, no matter how good you think you are. Be prepared to get hit."

"Fine," Keitaro growled in annoyance, bending his knees, his eyes boring a hole through the barrel looming just a handful of feet away from him.

* * *

That night, after the sun had set, Keitaro dipped slowly into the pool of hot water on the balcony of the second floor of Hinata Sou, gasping and wrenching his face as each scrape and bruise touched the steaming liquid. With his body completely immersed, he dropped his arms into the water and immediately cursed at the pain shooting through them. He did not know how much more punishment he could take from those wretched little yellow balls before his body gave up on him. After three long weeks, he had only managed to avoid being hit by five balls in a row. His goal? Fifty. Ten percent. Nowhere close.

Leaning his head against the edge of the tub, looking at the ceiling above him, he was sure he was missing something important regarding his task, but he could not place it. The more he tried to think about it, the more his head hurt. He was obviously burned out, but he refused to admit it. His muscles screamed at him constantly, and every movement seemed to take a Herculean effort lately.

After bathing and clothing himself, Keitaro dragged his body under aching feet down to the kitchen for something to drink. He passed Kitsune and Motoko in the foyer, grunting an unintelligible greeting to them as he passed. Neither of them asked if he was okay. In fact, no one did anymore. There was no need. Just by looking at the young man, they knew he was in pain. A pain they were certain he did not wish to discuss.

Sitting with a tall glass of cold milk, Keitaro stared blankly at the opposing wall. He knew tomorrow would be worse. How much worse could it get? It hurt to think, let alone sway his body. Would he make any progress? Not in his condition. But he knew he would do it anyway, because that was the road he chose. There was no shying away from it now.

The muffled ringing of the telephone in the foyer reached Keitaro's ears, tugging him sharply back into reality. He pushed with his arms on the table to stand when he heard Shinobu's voice say, "I'll get it."

"Thank you, Shinobu-chan," Keitaro whispered, sinking back into his chair. He sipped his milk with a weak smile, enjoying the taste of the beverage. After placing the glass back on the table, the door behind Keitaro swung open.

"Sempai, the telephone is for you," Shinobu said meekly.

"Do you know who it is?" Keitaro asked.

"Sounds like some old man. He seemed pretty grumpy."

"Coach," Keitaro muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," Keitaro said, shaking his head at the teenager. "I'll be right there."

"Okay."

Keitaro rose from his seat, his knees threatening to buckle at any time. He stifled a pain-induced grunt, shuffling along out of the door and to the phone. He picked up the receiver and spoke into it. "Hello?"

"Keitaro?"

"Yes, coach."

"I heard from Takamura. I want you to rest for a couple of days. Stay at home and don't do anything too physical."

"But coach, I…"

"I don't want to hear it! If I even smell you near my gym in the next two days, I will personally cane you so hard your children's children will feel it! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Keitaro was quickly learning to not argue.

"Get some rest. You need it! Clear your head!"

The phone clicked in Keitaro's ear, signaling that Kamogawa hung up on the other side. With a great sigh, Keitaro returned the receiver to its home. A great part of him felt relieved that he was free to rest for a while, but now he had no idea what to do with himself. His legs yelled at him for relief. First things first, then. Find a chair.

Keitaro sat with a huff into the armchair in the foyer, Kitsune seated to his left in the loveseat, Motoko to his right in the sofa. "Who was that, your girlfriend?" Kitsune asked playfully.

"You wish," Keitaro responded, adjusting his butt in the seat for maximum comfort. Although he almost wanted to say, "I wish." "It was the coach," Keitaro explained. "He wants me to take it easy for the next couple of days."

"A true warrior never needs to rest," Motoko said with her typical monotone voice.

Keitaro chuckled lightheartedly. "It's a good thing I'm not a true warrior, then. Because, honestly, I need it."

Kitsune laughed. "You've got that part right, at least. You are the furthest thing from a warrior."

Motoko's expression remained smooth as a river rock. "Not that I expect you to get far anyway, but without the heart of a warrior, you don't stand a chance."

Keitaro felt a burning sensation within his chest, but he suppressed it. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. We'll see what happens," he said with finality, trying to drop the subject.

Motoko stood up angrily. "Don't come crying to me when you lose then," she growled, storming out of the room with her sword in tow.

Keitaro raised his arms in confusion. "What did I do?"

"I think she's just trying to help," Kitsune said.

"Telling me I am wasting my time isn't exactly helpful."

"It's the only way she knows how."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you think I'm wasting my time?"

"Does it really matter what I think?

"I just want your opinion."

After a pause, Kitsune answered, "Honestly, I don't know what to think anymore." The two sat in silence the rest of the evening, staring into nothingness.

* * *

Keitaro woke in surprise the next morning, seeing the sun high up in the sky when he turned over on his futon. Had he really slept through most of the morning already? He lifted his head to look at his alarm clock, which he had not set to go off at four in the morning as usual. The clock read nine thirty-three. Impossible. That would mean he slept for almost eleven hours.

Keitaro's knees buckled when he stood, and he braced himself before attempting to rise once again. At last making it to a standing position, Keitaro removed his pajamas, changing into a casual outfit suitable for the season. Leaving his sanctuary, he went downstairs, following the sweet smell reaching his nose all the way to the dining room.

Without more than a simple good morning to all the girls seated around him, Keitaro took his place at the table, trying to shake the cobwebs from his head.

"Long night?" Naru asked him.

"Actually, I think I slept too long," Keitaro answered, stretching out his sore arms.

"Keitaro looks like he got beat up again," Su chimed, looking at Keitaro with concern, much to his surprise.

"No worries, Su-chan," Keitaro replied reassuringly. "It's looks much worse than it is."

"You always say that," Naru muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Sorry," Keitaro said. He didn't know how else to say it, honestly.

"Well, can I expect you to show up tonight?" Naru asked Keitaro.

He almost said for what before catching himself, remembering tonight was a study night. "Of course," he said nonchalantly, hoping no one noticed his look of surprise.

After eating, Keitaro rushed back to his room in a slight panic. He remembered he and Naru were supposed to be prepping for a mock exam in just a few short weeks, and they were supposed to be doing independent study when they were not together. Being so busy with his gym work, he completely forgot about his studies. "She is going to absolutely kill me," he hissed, closing his door behind him, and grabbing his backpack from the corner of his desk.

* * *

After a short afternoon of mostly fruitless studying, Keitaro dragged himself upstairs to Naru's room, knocking on her door pitifully. When Naru opened her door, Keitaro let himself in, not daring to look her in the eyes, fearful she would see right through him. Nevertheless, something about his demeanor caught her attention. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," Keitaro answered a little too quickly, dropping his loaded backpack full of textbooks next to the large, square table they studied at.

"This," Naru began, then trudged across her room with her head and arms drooped, doing a rather good impression of Keitaro before looking at him again, "is nothing?"

Keitaro had to pinch himself to keep from laughing at her. Did he really look like that? If so, there was no use in trying to hide anything. "I'm just not feeling all that confident about tonight."

"I already know you've been slacking off on your studies," Naru said casually.

"You did?" He looked at her with a look of genuine surprise.

"You've been out so much lately, and it's been obvious you haven't been going out to study. You pretty much wear your actions on your body. You always come back looking like you had been jumped by a gang of thugs."

Keitaro looked down at his hands. "Sorry," he said.

"Oh well," Naru said with a huff, "let's just see where you are at." She pulled a study test from her own backpack, sliding it across the table to Keitaro.

He pulled it closer to him and peered over it, half expecting it to be written in some foreign language.

"Need a pencil?" Naru asked, holding out a newly sharpened wooden pencil for Keitaro to take from her.

"No, I've got one, thanks," Keitaro waved a mechanical pencil for her to see, not looking up from the document.

Naru continued to watch him for a few more moments before pulling her own test out and beginning work on it.

Roughly an hour later, Naru put her pencil down. Keitaro looked up at her. "Done already?" She nodded and motioned Keitaro to continue.

Keitaro knew he was taking far too long to finish. He heard Naru's voice in his head say, "When it comes to tests, if you don't know how to get the answer right away, odds are you will never get it." He wanted to rip the test to shreds and storm out of the room, but he took a couple of deep breaths and continued.

After another half hour, a time in which Keitaro caught Naru staring at him on more than one occasion, he finally finished the test, tossing his pencil into the air and falling backwards onto his back. "I really bombed this one," he said, feeling defeated.

Naru calmly reached for his test, putting it next to her and fetched a textbook, flipping through the back pages for the answer page. Keitaro sat back in silence with a dash of trepidation as he watched Naru grade both of their tests. Her silence was to him as thunderous as his own.

At long last, Naru sighed, setting down her red marker. She wordlessly pushed Keitaro's test across the table. He leaned forward and lifted it to his eyes. He had managed a sixty-three, still seven points shy of a passing mark. "How did you do?" he asked, unfazed by his sub-par grade. He had expected it.

"Ninety-two," Naru replied. "Shall we review?" Keitaro nodded, shuffling over next to his study mate.

When they had finished for the night, Keitaro had a firm understanding of what he had missed on the test. "On a lot of these, you just tried too hard. Like here," Naru noted, pointing at one question in particular. "What is all this mess?" she asked.

Keitaro shrugged. "I had an idea about it; I guess I just took the long way around."

Naru nodded. "This, this, and this. These are all extra steps you didn't need to take to get the answer. That will kill you on timed tests like these. You've got to learn to be a minimalist."

As she continued to lecture Keitaro on the science of testing, she caught him staring at her with a crooked half-grin. "What are you staring at?" she asked, trying to sound annoyed as her blood rushed to her face.

"Oh, sorry," Keitaro said, looking away. "You just sound a lot like a real teacher. You've got a knack for this sort of thing. And yes, I mean that as a compliment," he quickly added at the end as he saw her face turn.

"Well, honestly," Naru said, tracing her finger on the table, "doing this with you, however annoying it is, especially with a dolt like you, has made me think a lot about majoring in education."

Keitaro positively beamed at her. "I definitely think you should! If you can get me to understand this stuff, it would be a cinch for you to teach practically anyone else."

Naru looked at Keitaro, smiling broadly. "Thanks," she said. Keitaro's heart swelled proudly. It was not often Naru spoke plainly genuine to him. It seemed to him, however, that each time she did, she was revealing the tiniest bit of her true self. And it was probably a good thing she only did it in small doses. Too much of this would probably overwhelm him. Even now, looking at her smiling face, he felt his head begin to spin.

He changed the subject back to reviewing their performances on the practice test, which they discussed until the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

Yet another tennis ball thumped into Keitaro's forehead, causing him to curse loudly in frustration. Takamura turned off the machine, clutching his stomach in a hoarse belly laugh. "That never gets old," he howled between gasps.

Keitaro toyed with the idea of picking up a ball and hurling it as hard as he could at Takamura's head, but he knew he could not outrun him, and decided against it. "Are you quite finished?" Keitaro asked with a harrumph.

"You're never going to do it that way," Takamura noted, still chuckling at Keitaro's perennial misfortune.

"I'm doing the best I can," Keitaro snarled back.

"If you were, this would be nothing," Takamura bellowed, turning the service machine back on without warning.

Keitaro ducked just in time to avoid a ball headed straight for his already tender nose. He swayed right to avoid the next ball, and was forced to over-correct on the next one. The fourth ball nailed him squarely in the stomach.

"You just don't get it," Takamura sniggered. "You are even more dense than Ippo, and that's really saying something. Don't just move your body! Think!"

Keitaro froze in place, ignoring the ball that slapped into his chest.

"What's the matter?" Takamura asked, flipping the machine to the off position.

"Of course," Keitaro said softly, a grin playing on his face.

"What?" Takamura asked, his face wracked in confusion.

Keitaro stood up straight, clutching his head. "I'm such an idiot!" he yelled up to the heavens.

"I dunno what you are talking about, but you just now realized that?" Takamura chuckled.

Taking his pose once more, glaring at Takamura with a grimace, Keitaro said, "Turn it on."

Takamura flipped the machine on wordlessly and stepped back, folding his arms over his massive chest. As time progressed, and with each ball loosed from the machine, the smirk on his face disappeared, turning slowly into a toothy grin.

Early the next morning, Keitaro stood in front of the wall, staring down the barrel of the tennis ball machine. After this, if he ever saw one of those contraptions again, it would be far too soon. Coach Kamogawa stood by, silently brooding over the situation as he leaned on his cane. Ippo, Kimura, and Aoki stood next to Kamogawa. Ippo watched intently, while Kimura stifled a yawn and Aoki leaned against the opposite wall, looking disinterested. Takamura took his place behind the machine's controls.

"Let's see what you've got!" Kamogawa barked. Taking the cue, Takamura flipped the machine to the on position, turning the speed up to the maximum.

Keitaro raised his hands, letting his elbows hand loosely at his sides, taking a fighting pose. The first ball shot out of the machine with a loud **FWOOMP**, and Keitaro shifted slightly to his left to avoid it. The ball missed him by several inches, and he heard it whiz past his right ear. Just as quickly as the ball passed him, he was back in his original position, ready for the next missile.

After a few more easy dodges, Kamogawa ordered Takamura to raise the output of the machine. Takamura cranked a knob on the machine all the way around until it stopped.

The machine began to whir with the labor of firing balls more quickly, but Keitaro remained clam and focused. He bent his knees down an inch more and relaxed his arms. Two balls fired in rapid succession. Keitaro quickly ducked the first as it slammed into the wall just above his head, and shifted his weight to the right to avoid the second. He immediately returned to his original position.

That exchange got Kimura and Aoki's attentions. "Did you see that?" Kimura said, turning his head to Aoki.

"Yeah, I did. Looks like he finally figured it out."

Balls rocketed out of the machine at a frightening pace, but each missed their mark, even if only by mere millimeters. Keitaro made it look easy, bobbing and weaving his head up and down, side to side.

"Satisfied?" Takamura asked Kamogawa, grinning at him like proud father.

Kamogawa waved his hand at Takamura, who turned the machine off. Keitaro looked a bit surprised that the exercise was over, and he turned his head to look at Kamogawa in confusion.

"What was the point of this exercise?" Kamogawa asked Keitaro.

"For me to learn to defend myself," Keitaro answered, but by the tone of his voice, it sounded more like a question.

"And what is the best method of defense?" Kamogawa asked again.

More confidently, Keitaro answered, "To make the smallest movements possible to avoid punches."

"And why is that important?" Kamogawa continued with the exam.

"If your movements are too large, you will be off balance and susceptible to combinations," Keitaro answered immediately.

"Correct," Kamogawa said, tapping his cane on the concrete. "Congratulations, you've passed the test, and much earlier than I expected I might add." Ippo applauded while the others stood silently with smiles on each of their faces.

Keitaro's jaw dropped at first, and as the realization set in, he jumped up and down and pumped his fists.

Kamogawa raised his cane, bringing order back among his charges. "Now, when you get here tomorrow, I want you to get taped up and gloved immediately. We start training for the pro test starting then!"

"Yes, sir," Keitaro said, barely able to contain his glee.

Kamogawa walked away stoically, entering the gym and going into his office. Closing the door behind him, he let out a curt chuckle. "He's pretty good after all," he noted aloud.

* * *

"How did you figure it out so quickly?" Ippo asked Keitaro as they changed back into their street clothes in the locker room.

Keitaro pulled his shirt over his head, wiping down his bare chest and back with a towel. "Oh, I just remembered something my study partner said to me the other day."

"And what was that?" Ippo asked.

"Don't try so hard," Keitaro said, gazing at something unseen.

"That's pretty good advice," Ippo said, zipping his bag closed. "See you tomorrow!"

"See you later," Keitaro returned, waving at Ippo as he walked out of the locker room. Keitaro sat down, reminiscing over his success. He had been sick and tired of dodging little yellow balls, but it was a great relief for him to have finally done it. He could hardly wait for tomorrow to come. He would finally get a shot at learning some offense.

With a loud crash, the door leading to the gym area whipped open, slamming against the wall. Takamura stepped in, glaring wildly at Keitaro, who looked around for some avenue of escape, but there was none.

"Thanks to you, I have nothing fun to do anymore," Takamura snarled at Keitaro.

"Sorry," Keitaro apologized sheepishly, sidling along the bench away from the stalking Takamura.

"You thought just by avoiding a few balls would free you from my grasp?" Takamura cackled.

Keitaro shook his head quickly, ready to bolt at any given moment.

"Well, tomorrow, the old man and I are really going to show you hell. You'd better be ready for it!" Takamura bellowed, now standing directly over Keitaro.

Keitaro tried to respond with his most casual voice, "I can't wait."

With a grunt, Takamura turned tail and sauntered back into the gym area, not bothering to close the doors behind him.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Keitaro slid back towards his bag, throwing his gym shoes into it and zipping it closed. Suddenly, he was not looking forward to his new training regimen as much. As he stood to leave, draping his bag over his shoulder, he wondered just how much more torture would be in store for him starting tomorrow.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: As the pro test looms ever closer, Keitaro begins to get cold feet. Does he have the heart to follow through with his convictions, or was Motoko correct when she said he lacked the heart for boxing? Find out next time on Hajime no Keitaro!


	11. Heart of a Warrior

Hajime no Keitaro: Heart of a Warrior

Keitaro stood in the ring wearing long shorts and a tank top shirt. Raising his gloved hands, he took his orthodox fighting stance. Standing across from him was Coach Kamogawa, who had a pair of worn out boxing mitts on his hands. "As you said yesterday," Kamogawa explained, "avoiding punches using the smallest amount of movement possible is essential for avoiding combinations. However, that tactic does not only prove to be a useful defensive strategy. It has another use as well." He held out his right hand. "Jab the mitt," he ordered Keitaro.

Keitaro nodded, snapping a quick jab at Kamogawa's outstretched hand. Quicker than Keitaro could see, Kamogawa slipped his hand away from his jab at the last moment, stepping into him and smacking him lightly across the face with a short right hook. Keitaro's face colored. His pride was hurt more than anything, and he stared at Kamogawa with a dumbfounded look. The old man was much quicker than one would figure by looking at him.

"Counter punches are doubly effective since you are using your opponent's momentum against them," Kamogawa elucidated. "In order to use them properly, you must be in control and your body in full balance. Shucking and jiving around like this," Kamogawa swayed his upper body side to side in a comically overdramatic fashion, "won't help you land a clean counter. So your training these past few weeks will also serve a purpose for you offensively." Kamogawa held out his right hand again, while holding his left hand behind his back. "Now, let's work on your left jab. Follow me around the ring, and try to hit the mitt in the middle."

Keitaro danced around the coach, firing off left after left, trying to hit the mitt as Kamogawa held it out in different places around his face and body. At first, he missed completely at times, while mostly landing nothing more than a glancing blow. After an inordinate amount of time, he at last landed a direct hit on the mitt, and it responded with a resounding slapping sound that rang in Keitaro's ear.

"Good!" Kamogawa grunted without stopping his movement around the squared circle. "Etch that sound into your mind. Make it your goal to create that sound with each punch. Keep your guard up! Don't drop your shoulder! Keep that chin tucked in!"

Keitaro's head was swimming. The coach was giving him so many orders while he stalked him around the ring, he couldn't remember all of them. His left shoulder was starting to ache, and he could feel his breath begin to labor. Even still, he shot his left hand out again and again, each shot finding its mark closer to the middle than the last.

After another several minutes, Keitaro could feel the sweat forming on his brow. His shoulder felt like it was either on fire or was about to fall off. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, and he was getting lazy with his punches. Just when he felt like he was about to run out of steam, Kamogawa yelled, "Stop!"

Keitaro dropped his arms to his knees, squatting over and sucking in heaving breaths. Sweat poured onto the canvas from his chin and nose. He was amazed how hard it was to move around and constantly throw punches with gloves on his hands. Even more amazing still, it did not appear to him that Kamogawa was laboring in the least. In fact, not even a bead of sweat was forming at his brow.

Keitaro's left shoulder felt as if it was cramping, and he stretched it out using the ropes. It was then that he noticed his back muscles were also exhausted. He pulled hard on the rope, stretching his back as far as it would go. All the while, Kamogawa was barking at him. "You've got to keep your left up. Anyone would see a punch is coming if you keep dropping your shoulder before you punch. Keep your upper body square. Remember to snap your hand back after you follow through, so you don't eat a counter."

Keitaro couldn't keep up with it all, so he just nodded dumbly, hoping he was fooling the coach. "Now we work on your right," Kamogawa said, lifting his left hand. Keitaro, having just gotten his breath back and his feet under him, nodded his head again and took his stance.

For another inordinate amount of time, Keitaro stalked after Kamogawa, firing straight right hands at him. It took a while to find the distance to strike from. It was only slightly different than his left hand, but even the smallest amount of distance seemed to make a difference. "Lay into it! Turn your hips into the punch! The power comes from your legs!"

If it were possible, Keitaro was even more exhausted from using his right than his left after Kamogawa finally gave the order to stop. This time, Keitaro had to put his gloves on top of his head. The stitches in his side were so painful, it felt like someone was stabbing him with a dagger.

He might have thought he would get some relief, but that was not to be. "You just don't have enough pop in your punches right now to consider moving forward. I want you to work the bag the rest of the day. Work on your mechanics. If you need help, just ask." Without another word or waiting for Keitaro to respond, Kamogawa stepped through the ropes and walked down the stairs and towards his office.

Keitaro, still gasping for breath, threw his arms up in disgust. Worn out and confused, he hopped down to the floor and found for himself an unused punching bag. He did just as he was told, trying to remember what Kamogawa was telling him. Occasionally he would glance over at another boxer working the bag, watching how they threw their punches.

After his day of training was complete, Keitaro sat down gingerly on a bench in the corner of the gym. He pulled the gloves off of his hands slowly, revealing his red and raw knuckles. Removing the tape from his hands was more than a minor chore. When he was finished, he saw Yagi approaching him. "You should soak your hands in some ice water," he said to him in passing.

* * *

It helped. The next morning, after spending the evening with both his hands in buckets of ice water to the bemusement of his tenants, his hands were both fully recovered and ready for the day's work. When he arrived at the gym, he was ordered to work the bag again the whole day. And the day after. And the day after that. It seemed to Keitaro as if he was being ignored, since Kamogawa was recently spending most of his time working with Ippo in the ring. 

Aoki, who was working the bag next to Keitaro, noticed him glancing at the ring again and again. He said to him, "Don't feel bad."

"I'm sorry?" Keitaro asked, flinching at the sound of Aoki's voice. He had failed to notice him standing right next to him.

"Ippo's got his biggest match yet coming up in a few weeks. That's why the coach is working with him so much." Aoki told him.

"Really? Against who?"

"The former amateur world champion, Vorg Zangief."

"A world champion?" Keitaro asked, his eyes widened in astonishment.

"The amateur world champion, yes. And whoever wins gets a shot at Eiji Date."

"The Japanese Featherweight Champion, Eiji Date?" Keitaro asked. Aoki nodded his head. "Amazing," Keitaro said. "Has anyone in this gym other than Takamura had a title shot before?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Aoki grumbled, turning back to his bag, hitting it angrily.

Keitaro suppressed a grin. It was obviously a touchy subject for Aoki, but it seemed to fire him up. Not about to be outdone, Keitaro turned back to his own bag and starting throwing hard shots at it. Aoki looked at his kouhai out of the corner of his eye and smirked. He's still green, Aoki thought.

* * *

A few nights later, Keitaro sat at the dinner table with all the girls seated around him, scooping copious amounts of rice into his mouth, munching greedily. He had hardly noticed, but all eyes were on him. No one else had yet to take a bite off of her own plate. At last, he eyeballed everyone around him. "What?" he asked, a few bits of rice falling from his mouth when he opened it. That particular image caused Motoko to nearly retch in disgust.

"One usually chews before they swallow," Kitsune said, greatly amused.

"I was getting ready to jump up and give you the Heimlich maneuver," Naru joked.

"Keitaro has rice all over his face," Su joked. Shinobu merely suppressed the giggles rising from her stomach, her face coloring over.

Embarrassed, but defiant, Keitaro muttered, "Leave me alone. I'm hungry," from behind his chopsticks.

"So what happened today?" Kitsune asked Keitaro clear out of the blue, trying to strike up a random conversation.

Keitaro looked up and over at her in confusion. "Huh?" he asked. It was the only sound he could muster with a full mouth.

"What did you do at the gym today?" Kitsune asked him again, slowly.

Keitaro managed to swallow his large mouthful of rice. "Why the sudden interest in what I'm doing?" With Kitsune asking the question, a large red flag flew up in his mind, waving as if caught in a windstorm.

Absentmindedly poking her chopsticks in her rice, Kitsune shrugged. "Just curious."

Keitaro was certain she was playing at something. He glanced at Naru, then Motoko. The look on their faces showed they were as skeptical as he. It did not help that Kitsune's curiosity tended to cost him large sums of money. He chose his words carefully. "Just more of the same, really." Strangely enough, he felt no need to lie.

"Now that you mention it," Naru said, brooding over at Keitaro, who shifted his eyes around the table in wonder. She leaned closer to him from across the table. "Have you seen your hands?" She asked him.

"What?" he asked, looking down at his black and blue knuckles. "Oh these?" He lifted his bruised appendages for all to see. "This is nothing."

"Your hands look like they hurt, sempai," Shinobu noted with a worried tone.

"Well, yeah, a little bit," Keitaro admitted, flexing his fingers. "But it looks much worse than it is."

"Are they having you punch a brick wall or something?" Kitsune asked.

Keitaro shook his head. "Sand bag. All day, every day for the past week."

There were audible winces all around him. Even Motoko grimaced. "It's really not that bad. My hands are taped, gloved, and everything. You should see the others' hands. They are in much worse shape than mine."

The group ate in silence for several minutes. Finally, Motoko could stand it no longer. Her voice raised as if she were holding her words in for a long time, she blurted, "What are you getting out of this?"

Keitaro's head shot up, and he fumbled his chopsticks in his hand, and they clattered loudly against the side of his rice bowl, settling onto the table. Motoko was glaring at him malevolently. "I'm sorry?" he asked her.

"I asked you what you are getting out this? Going to the city every day, coming back hurt all the time. What are you trying to accomplish? Is this just some phase, or what?" Motoko was breathing hard and fast, staring at Keitaro with widened eyes. The other girls glanced nervously between Keitaro and Motoko.

Keitaro leaned back in his chair, not taking his eyes off of Motoko. "What do you get out of your training, Motoko-chan?" Keitaro asked her.

Motoko's eyes turned to slits. "That has nothing to do with my question."

"Actually, it has everything to do with it," Keitaro countered.

"Your barbaric training is nothing like Shinmeiryu katas," Motoko retorted with a scoff. "Comparing the two is ridiculous."

"Doesn't it make you feel better about yourself? If you've had a bad day, you can take it out on some leaves with your sword, right? It's a great outlet, to get your mind off of things? Well, it's the same for me!" Keitaro exclaimed.

Motoko's expression softened considerably. Everything Keitaro had said to him was accurate. Whenever she has feeling depressed or inadequate, or needed time to think about something, she found her way to the roof to train. And when she finished, she always felt much better about things. However, her sense of pride outweighed the twinge of guilt pricking her heart. "Even still, this isn't going to lead to anything except failure," she said coldly.

Keitaro jumped to his feet, feeling his blood begin to boil. This surprised the girls seated around the table, and they shuffled their chairs away from him and Motoko. He was about to hurl a particularly nasty rejoinder at Motoko, but he simply turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

No one left in the room moved for several moments, expecting Keitaro to storm back into the room and continue his argument with Motoko. After a few seconds of hearing nothing but the chirp of a cricket near one of the windows outside, the girls slowly returned to their places and continued the meal in silence. At least, everyone except Motoko. She did not touch the remainder of her meal.

Keitaro paced around his room, trying to get his breathing and heart rate under control. He was absolutely incensed at what Motoko had said to him. Why did everyone insist on writing him off? Could he do nothing right in their eyes? What did he have to prove to them?

It was a long time before Keitaro finally calmed down and fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Keitaro stood in the ring, suited up with gloves, repeating the exercises he performed with Kamogawa a week before. "Stop!" Kamogawa barked at last. Keitaro came up heaving, but not nearly as much as he did before. To Keitaro's surprise, Kamogawa threw off his mitts in the center of the ring and said, "You're wasting my time."

"What?" Keitaro said, wrinkling his brow. He thought he was performing quite well.

"Your punches are too slow, they don't have any pop to them, and you're dragging your feet around the ring, like you aren't the least bit interested in what you are doing!" Kamogawa snarled. "If that's really what you think about this, get your ass out of my gym right now!" Not waiting for a response, Kamogawa jumped down from the ring, walking away in disgust. "Back to work!" he ordered the onlookers, who went right back to what they were doing.

Keitaro, still breathing heavily, stood alone in the ring, looking around for something, someone, to explain to him exactly what just happened. He threw his arms up in disgust, dropped the gloves from his hands in the ring next to the mitts and made a beeline for the locker room. He plopped onto the bench, trying to wrap his head around what had happened. He was paying perfect attention to what Kamogawa was saying to him, and he was not doing any of the things he had accused him of. He had no idea what he was talking about.

While removing the tape from his hands violently, Keitaro looked up to see Ippo appear from the other side of the door. "You okay?" Ippo asked him.

"No, I'm not," Keitaro answered, throwing a wad of tape at the floor.

"What happened?"

"I don't have the slightest idea," Keitaro said, shrugging his shoulders wildly for effect. "Everything was fine, then he accuses me of not being interested in training then he storms off. What the hell is that all about?"

Ippo scratched the back of his head, gazing down at the floor as he leaned against a nearby wall. "So he got angry with you?"

"Yeah, and for no good reason. Where the hell does he get off?" Keitaro grumbled angrily as he finished removing the tape from his hands. "What is with everyone thinking I'm not good enough?"

Ippo opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the gym swung open with a bang. Kamogawa, his face red with anger, stormed in and grabbed Ippo by the collar of his shirt. "Kid, get your butt outside right now, we are running!"

"Yes, sir," Ippo said hoarsely. Kamogawa was half-choking him as he dragged him out of the locker room.

Keitaro sighed before he overheard Kamogawa's voice yell, "Stay away from people like that. They are poison for the hungry boxer." That did it. If that was how Kamogawa was going to treat him, then he was better off without him. He quickly threw his belongings from his locker to his bag, and he left the gym.

Just outside the door, Kamogawa was putting on his bike helmet when Keitaro walked right past him without a word. He watched him walk away for a while, shaking his head in disappointment.

* * *

Keitaro stared out into the distance through the window of the train as he rocked back and forth in his seat with the motion of the car. He had an empty feeling in his stomach, feeling like he had just been kicked while he was down. He liked going to the Kamogawa gym because it got him away from the insults and teasing he received at Hinata Sou. It just was not worth it to him if he was going to receive it at both ends.

Lethargic, Keitaro dropped his bag to the ground next to the entrance to Hinata Sou and shuffled across the floor towards the stairs. "You're back early," he heard Kitsune say. He looked up, seeing Kitsune and Motoko sitting in the common room, much like last week. He nodded and trudged up the stairs wordlessly. Kitsune and Motoko exchanged confused looks. "I wonder what happened." Motoko shook her head.

Keitaro spent the next few days doing absolutely nothing. He sat around his room, rummaging randomly through textbooks, lounging around the common room watching television, and doing his routine, mundane household chores. Though a part of him felt liberated from not having to deal with Kamogawa berating him, his mind constantly wandered back to thoughts of the gym. How were the others doing? Was Ippo ready for his match? When would he be able to turn pro? As time went on, it became more difficult to chase these thoughts away.

On the other hand, being more or less stuck at Hinata Sou opened his eyes to other matters, such as his relationships with his tenants. While they were for the most part strained, the one that concerned him most was Motoko. Their rows over the past several weeks weighed heavily on his mind. He needed to fix their relationship before it deteriorated even more than it already had. And unfortunately for him, there was only one way to do it.

* * *

It was a few days before Keitaro worked up the courage to try to talk to her. The last time he tried to speak to her while she was practicing it nearly cost him his life. But he saw no other choice. He camped by the stairs just like the last time, watching her slice leaves floating to the ground neatly into two. He gulped, steeling his nerves. He took one step. Then another.

Motoko froze in her tracks. As Keitaro thought, she could sense his presence. "It's me," he said, before she had the chance to turn on the spot and attack him.

"I wish you would stop spying on me from the stairs," Motoko said, sheathing her blade. "It's distracting." She turned to face him. "What do you want, Urashima?"

Keitaro tried to ignore the fact that it was easy to tell by the tone of her voice that Motoko wanted to do anything but chit-chat with him. He went straight to the point. "I just wanted…needed you to know that you were right."

"Right about what?" Motoko asked, puzzled.

Keitaro breathed, looking around Motoko instead of at her. "About what you said about me. You were right. I don't have the heart for this." He stopped for a moment to give Motoko a chance to respond, but she did not. He continued, "Part of me believed that it didn't matter who I was; that I could just try my very best and that would be enough. But that was stupid. It takes a special kind of person to be able to do what they do, just like it takes someone special to be able to do what you do, Motoko-chan. I just wanted to thank you for helping me realize that before I wasted any more of my time."

Keitaro fidgeted nervously for a while before the still-silent Motoko before he said, "I'll let you get back to your training now," and excused himself.

Keitaro was halfway down the stairs leading back to the third floor of the inn when he heard Motoko exclaim, "Wait!" Keitaro halted, and climbed back up the stairs. It was Motoko's turn to fidget around, searching for words. "You've got it all wrong. The thing is, I've been purposefully trying to make you stop going to that place."

Keitaro gasped. "Why do you do such a thing?"

"I don't really know," Motoko said. "I felt threatened, I guess." Seeing that Keitaro was totally lost by her reasoning, Motoko tried to explain. "I always had this image of you being so weak and inept, and I always made sure you knew it. But after seeing you do so much to change, I just couldn't accept the fact that you were becoming…more of your real self."

Keitaro knew Motoko despised being proven wrong more than anything else, but he failed to understand the depths she would go to protect her honor. "I'm sorry," he said reflexively.

Motoko vigorously shook her head. "I should be the one apologizing." Keitaro could tell her eyes were beginning to well with tears. "I've shamed myself by saying those horrible things about you. Those things I said were lies. You have the heart of a true warrior, Urashima Keitaro. I can only hope than in my humility you can one day find some way to forgive me for my transgressions." Motoko knelt before Keitaro, burying her face into the wood of the rooftop.

Keitaro reached a hand out toward her, then pulled it back hesitantly. Finally, he laid his hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, tears streaking down her face. "Thank you, Motoko-chan. I would never have believed it myself had you not told me."

He offered to help her to her feet and much to his surprise, she accepted. She wiped the tears from her face on the sleeve of her uwagi as she said, "So are you going to go back, now?"

Keitaro nodded, smiling warmly at Motoko. "Yeah, I think I know what I need to do now." She returned his smile and nodded back at him.

* * *

Early the next morning, Keitaro stepped into the gym, his eyes scanning for his target. Finding him, he walked straight over to him, interrupting his conversation with his assistants. "What the hell do you want?" Kamogawa asked Keitaro, his voice dripping with venom. From behind Kamogawa's back, Yagi and Shinoda grinned widely at Keitaro. Keitaro had to keep his eyes off of them, or else he would lose control and smile back. He tried to bore a hole through Kamogawa with his eyes.

"I'm here to train," Keitaro said. Yagi and Shinoda were positively beaming at Keitaro now. He struggled to retain his composure.

"I'm not going to waste my time on someone like you," Kamogawa said, turning around. Keitaro grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. Kamogawa glanced at the hand lying on him then glared at Keitaro.

"I want to show you what I'm made of. I want to show you my heart," Keitaro explained. He stood his ground, staring right back through the vicious glare he was receiving.

At last, Kamogawa broke his stare, glancing down at Keitaro's feet. He looked him up and down, and said curtly, "Five minutes. Go."

Keitaro exhaled and his face broke into a grin despite himself. He ran off to change, and Kamogawa turned back to his assistants, who were still grinning like a couple of idiots. Kamogawa just smirked at them.

"How did you know?" Shinoda asked.

"If you were working with him," Kamogawa said, "you would have known, too."

"Although I didn't exactly agree with your methods, I knew he wouldn't be able to stay away long," Yagi said cheerfully.

"Yagi?" Kamogawa asked, turning towards the ring.

"Yes, Coach?"

"Make the call." Kamogawa walked towards the ring, away from his assistants. "You can tell the kid after we're done today."

"Yes, sir!" Yagi slapped Shinoda on the back and dashed back to the manager's office.

"Now we'll see what you are really made of, Urashima Keitaro," Kamogawa said aloud to himself, pounding his right fist into the palm of his left hand.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: At last, it's time for Keitaro to test his mettle against a real opponent. Does he have the skills to become a professional boxer, or will he fall short yet again? Find out next time on: Hajime no Keitaro!


	12. The Last Test

Hajime no Keitaro: The Last Test

"Dig, dig, dig," bellowed Kamogawa, trying to hold his arms as steady as possible for Keitaro, who was throwing quick, consecutive short uppers with both arms as if pounding someone in the body. Keitaro snarled through his clenched teeth, trying to keep the rush of punches up without slacking. At last, Kamogawa raised his right hand up, facing in instead of down. Reacting immediately, Keitaro stepped back, pushing off with his right foot and turning his waist, throwing his right hook with full force. The glove found its mark, blasting Kamogawa's arm away, and the glove flew from his hand, landing outside the ring.

"Time!" Kamogawa barked, rubbing his right hand. Keitaro had stung his hand, but the stitches could not wipe the silly grin off of his face. "Very good," Kamogawa said in as even a tone as he could muster. "But don't swing any wider than that. Keep all your punches as compact as possible."

Keitaro nodded, rubbing the sweat on his forehead with his arm. He listened to Kamogawa give him further instruction, but his mind was on tomorrow's pro test. He felt nervous, yet loose. He had heard at least a half dozen times already about how it did not matter so much whether you "win or lose" in the exam, but how well you perform overall. Truth be told, it was the written part of the exam he feared more than the in-ring test. His written test-taking ability had long since become legendary in its futility.

"That will be all for today, then," Kamogawa said. "I want you to rest the remainder of the day and prepare yourself mentally for tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Keitaro said, bowing before his teacher.

Keitaro, freshly showered and in street clothes, was about to leave the gym when Ippo caught up to him. "Keitaro-san," he called out to him.

Keitaro turned around to face him. Ippo was panting a bit, with fresh sweat pouring from him. It looked to Keitaro like he had stopped in the middle of an exercise to catch him before he left. "What's up?" Keitaro asked.

"Are you all set for tomorrow?" Ippo asked him, slowly catching his breath.

Keitaro shrugged. "As ready as I can be I guess. If Coach says I am, then I must be."

Ippo nodded, but Keitaro could see the look of concern written on his face.

"What's wrong?" Keitaro asked.

"It's probably nothing," Ippo said, shaking his head as if trying to shake something off of him.

"You not telling me is just going to make me worry more, so just tell me."

"Well," Ippo said, tapping his chin with his index finger. "The Coach never had you spar with anyone on a regular basis, really. Do you feel ready to take on a real opponent with so little experience?"

"I…hadn't really thought about it that much, honestly," Keitaro said. Now he really was concerned. There were only a few occasions that Keitaro sparred with someone else from the gym, and those stints were quite short.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Ippo said reassuringly. "Coach has never led me astray. Just do the best you can tomorrow, and I'm sure everything will work out."

Keitaro nodded. "Thanks." The two parted ways, and Keitaro caught the next train back to Hinata Onsen, his thoughts weighing on him heavier than before.

* * *

That evening, Shinobu noticed that Keitaro had barely touched his meal. At first she was concerned that there was something wrong with her cooking, but everyone else seemed to be eating normally. She tried to shrug it off at first, thinking that there was nothing she could do. 

But after finishing her nightly cleaning of the kitchen, she cracked open the door from the kitchen to the dining room and saw Keitaro still sitting at the table, by himself. He was clutching his hands together, resting his chin on his hands, staring at the wall blankly. She was accustomed to seeing him like this on nights when he had a mock exam the following day, but to her recollection, there was no such test scheduled for tomorrow.

With uncharacteristic daring, she stepped carefully into the room and moved next to him. "Sempai?" she said softly.

Keitaro started with a slight gasp. "Oh, Shinobu-chan. Sorry, I didn't see you there."

Shinobu shook her head and smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Is something wrong?"

Keitaro looked at her silently for almost a moment too long. It amazed him how she always managed to look so innocent. But he could tell she was genuinely concerned. He exhaled sharply as he looked away. "I'm just nervous, I guess. You know how I can be before test days."

Shinobu cocked her head at him. "I didn't know you had a test tomorrow."

Keitaro chuckled. "Oh, this is a different kind of test. Well, not totally different…how do I say this?" he asked himself aloud. He stole another glance at the girl standing above him. She still looked as puzzled as ever. "It's a boxing test," he finally admitted.

"I don't understand," Shinobu said, shaking her head slightly.

Keitaro explained. "Well, there is a written test, then an in-ring test where I have to spar against another examinee."

Shinobu's eyes widened in fear. "Could you get hurt, sempai?"

Keitaro smiled at the girl's naivety. "No, we will be using full protection. It's just a test, not a real fight. You don't need to worry."

Shinobu's expression immediately softened. After a moment of silence, Shinobu asked, "Does anyone else know about this test?"

"You mean anyone here?" Keitaro asked. Shinobu nodded. "I don't think so. I haven't exactly made it public knowledge, but it wouldn't surprise me if Kitsune-san knew about it."

Shinobu felt her heart flutter in her chest. Her sempai actually told her a secret that he had told no one else; not even Naru. The idea excited her and scared her at the same time. "I won't tell anyone, I promise," she said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so," Keitaro said. He watched her face fall, and he felt horrible about it. He had made her sad so many times, and he hated doing that more than almost anything. He had to think of something quick to cheer her up. He said the first thing that came to his mind. "Did you want to come to the test with me tomorrow?"

Shinobu blinked. "What?" she asked. He could not have asked her that. She had to have imagined it.

"I asked if you wanted to come with me to the test tomorrow?"

Shinobu pointed at herself. "Just me?" Keitaro smiled wide and nodded.

Shinobu felt her hands begin to shake with excitement. Alone with Keitaro for a whole day? It was something beyond even her wildest fantasies. She nearly had to pinch herself on her leg to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"The test is at noon, but we'll need to be there pretty early so I can get ready, so it will be a long day for you. It might be boring for you, too, actually," Keitaro said, expressing aloud his misgivings about asking Shinobu along.

She was quick to protest to his qualms. "I would love to go with you. I promise I won't be in your way or anything. It will be like I'm not even there."

Keitaro was surprised at this turn of events. He had not expected Shinobu to be so adamant about going to a violent sporting event. "I really didn't think you would be so excited about this," he confessed.

Shinobu's face colored a nice deep shade of red, but Keitaro seemed to not notice. "It will be interesting to see what you have been spending so much of your time doing, is all," Shinobu said demurely.

"Oh," Keitaro grunted. "Well, either way, it will be nice to have _someone_ cheering me on," he said, smiling weakly at the blue-haired teenager, who responded in kind.

They agreed on leaving soon after breakfast, sneaking out unnoticed at two different times and meeting at the train station as to not alert those living under the same roof who-must-not-be-named (Naru and Motoko) of their plans. They said goodnight and retired to their rooms. Neither got much sleep that night, though for different reasons altogether.

* * *

Keitaro awoke to his alarm blaring in his ear, and he grumpily rolled over and turned it off. He had finally fallen asleep at around three in the morning, and the clock, displaying a time of six-thirty, seemed to mock him. He yawned several times as he threw on a clean set of sweatpants, relieved himself, and dragged himself downstairs. His body felt tight, and he knew it would take him a good while to get loose enough, both physically and mentally, for his test. 

When he pushed open the door to the dining room, he saw Naru and Motoko, who were leaning in close to each other from across the table, separate suddenly, both giving him obviously forged smiles. They had been muttering to each other, but Keitaro did not hear what they were saying. "Good morning," he said, eyeing them suspiciously, but trying not to show it on his face.

"Good morning, Keitaro," Naru said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Urashima," Motoko said with equal amount of saccharine.

They were both horrible liars, and Keitaro knew it. He passed behind Naru, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Motoko give a single, curt shake of her head at Naru. As he lowered himself into his seat, he asked, "So what are we talking about?"

"We?" Naru said incredulously.

"Nothing, really," Motoko said, trying to look as believable as possible.

Keitaro was not buying it, but knew better than trying to pressure them. It would be safer to juggle swords. So he pretended not to notice anything out of the ordinary.

The three sat in uncomfortable silence until Kitsune burst into the room. "I heard oh," she said, stopping when she saw Keitaro sitting at the table with Naru and Motoko. He smiled and waved at her, and she returned his greeting with a much more believable response. She could make a living getting people to believe her malarkey, and Keitaro knew there was no way he was getting anything out of her.

To test his theory, he said, "You're up awfully early, aren't you, Kitsune-san?"

Without missing a step, Kitsune said, "I've got a story to submit to the Post this morning. Gotta pay the bills!" She casually slinked into her chair next Naru, opposite Keitaro.

Keitaro smirked, but knew he would be on the losing end of a battle of wits with the one known as the Fox. He decided to let them have their little secret and dropped his inquisition altogether.

"So, what are you doing today, Keitaro?" Kitsune asked.

Keitaro momentarily toyed with the idea of telling them he was taking Shinobu with him to Tokyo for his pro test just to see the looks on their faces, but decided that remaining alive was a superior idea. "Just more of the same today, really," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Sounds exciting," Kitsune said, stifling a yawn. "That's too bad, though. I was going to have you go shopping with me later today."

"I'm sure any medical bills I might get from sparring today would be cheaper than the cost of going shopping with you, Kitsune-san," Keitaro countered.

"Touché," Kitsune said, winking at Keitaro.

Su slithered into the room. Her eyes were half-shut and her shoulders slumped, looking like she was sleepwalking. Her clothes were wrinkled and matted. She had slept in her school uniform. "Morn," she muttered, slinking into her chair and laying her head on the table.

"Long night?" Naru asked the foreigner.

"Uh huh," Su groaned. She lay there like a slug, and started to drool on the table.

"That's appetizing," Motoko said of the trail of spit falling from Su's mouth.

As if on cue, Shinobu burst into the room from the kitchen, having whipped up the usual Sunday breakfast of an assortment of eggs, rice, and miso soup. She wore a simple but attractive mid-length pink dress, as well as a smile that would be impossible to wipe from her face. "Good morning," she said in her most bubbly voice.

"What's with you this morning?" Kitsune asked the youngest girl. "Hot date today?"

Shinobu blushed furiously, exchanged the slightest of glances with Keitaro, and blabbered, "N-no! It's just a, a beautiful day today!"

"She's such a morning person," Naru noted, rubbing her temples. "It really pisses me off sometimes."

"I'm a morning person, Naru-sempai," Motoko casually said.

"You piss me off, too, sometimes," Naru returned. Motoko just frowned at her.

"Studying until three in the morning every night isn't exactly good for you, either, Narusegawa," Keitaro said, trying to deflect the attention from Shinobu.

"I wouldn't be a morning person even if I got a full night's sleep every night," Naru said in her defense.

"That's true enough," Kitsune said. "But you can be a real flaming bitch when you don't get enough sleep."

Amongst the giggles from around the table, Naru roared at her friend, "Who asked you anyway?"

Kitsune backed away sheepishly, with an I-told-you-so look on her face.

"Let's eat, shall we?" Shinobu asked, defusing the situation with the allure of food.

Everyone ate their fill, and one by one Kitsune, Naru, Motoko, and Su left the table to return to their rooms. When the coast was clear, Keitaro snuck into the kitchen and placed his dirty dishes in the sink. "I'll be leaving in about twenty minutes," he told Shinobu, who was wrapping leftovers and setting them in the refrigerator. "The train leaves in about an hour, so make sure you slip out in time."

"I'll meet you there for sure," Shinobu responded. "You had better go before someone gets suspicious."

Keitaro nodded and left the kitchen. In Hinata Sou, there could be no expectation of privacy, and with Kitsune and Su around, one could never be too careful. Kitsune was notorious for popping up around corners and Su had made it a hobby of hers to bug certain parts of the building to capture audio.

After roughly ten minutes, Shinobu heard Keitaro belt out, "I'm leaving now!" That has her cue. She quickly finished wiping down the countertop with a damp rag and tossed it in the empty sink. Taking a quick glance around the room to make sure everything was in order, she snuck through the back door that was hardly ever used, rounding the building and entering through a side door that was closer to her room yet much less visible.

She padded silently to her room and shut herself in as quietly as possible, fully aware that other than Keitaro, Kitsune was the only other person occupying a room on the 200 level of Hinata Sou, and her room was clear on the other side of the building. With such an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity as this, at least in her estimation, she refused to take any chances. She tiptoed across the floor of her room and grabbed her purse, which was sitting on the corner of her bed, filled with everything that she would need for the day. She double-checked her cash reserve, making sure she had enough for the round-trip train fare, stuffed her wallet back into her purse, and headed back for her door.

She poker her head out of her door, looking both ways to make sure the coast was clear. Sneaking around like some special-ops soldier, Shinobu slid towards the intersection leading to the stairs, and pressed herself flat against the wall. She whipped her head around the corner and saw no one in the hall. She made a break for the stairs, hopping down them two at a time. She finally made it to the exit without being spotted, slid her shoes on, and let herself out of the building.

When the door clicked shut, Shinobu let out a tremendous sigh of relief. This kind of thing was just not in her blood. "Sorry," she said softly, apologizing to everyone in the best way she could, and dashed to the stairs and ran down them as fast as she could.

From behind a nearby bush, a shadowy figure raised a device to its face. "Base, this is Goldeneye. Come in, base."

A grainy voice responded from the device. "This is base. Go ahead, Goldeneye."

"Blue Lady is on the move."

"Acknowledged. Return to base immediately, Goldeneye."

"Roger that. Goldeneye out." The shadow slinked back behind the bush and vanished.

* * *

By the time Shinobu managed to catch up to Keitaro at the train station, she was thoroughly winded. Keitaro waved to her and when they closed the gap between them, Keitaro held two tickets in his hand. "I've got you covered, Shinobu-chan, don't worry about paying me back. It was my idea after all." 

"Th-thank you very much, Urashima-sempai," Shinobu said, taking the ticket from him and staring at it like it was some precious treasure.

"They are boarding now, so let's get on so we can get good seats," Keitaro suggested. Shinobu nodded, and they boarded together, sitting in one of the front cars so Shinobu had the window seat. On the far end of the platform, a large group of people boarded the last car of the same train.

The train ride lasted roughly an hour, and Keitaro spent the last half of it watching Shinobu, who had quickly drifted off into a peaceful slumber, resting her head against his shoulder. His arm was half-sleep for the majority of the trip, but he lacked the heart to wake the young woman. Besides, he had more important matters on his mind.

Shinobu woke only several minutes away from their destination, apologizing profusely for making Keitaro uncomfortable. When the train finally stopped, they secured their belongings and stepped off the train, smack dab into the hustle and bustle of a busy Tokyo train station. Acting on instinct, Keitaro clutched onto Shinobu's hand and led her through the gaggle of people surrounding them. If he had taken a moment to look at her, he would have seen that her whole face was as red as a beet.

When they reached the street, Keitaro flagged down a taxi, opened the door, and ushered Shinobu inside. When he sat down inside the cab, he said, "Korakuen Hall, please," and shut the door.

* * *

When the cab passed by them about 250 feet down the street, Naru, Motoko, Kitsune, Su, and Haruka all turned back towards the road. "Tell me you got that, Su-chan," Naru said hopefully. 

"I swear, if that man even lays a finger on her," Motoko said, gripping her sword's handle.

"I'm sure he has a good reason," Haruka said, but her words were not enough to convince anyone, let alone herself.

"All the way to Tokyo, though?" Kitsune asked.

Su shushed everyone, turning a knob on one of her newer devices. "I can't get the calibration right with all of you talking," Su noted. She continued to fiddle with the knobs and buttons on the device until a faint, distorted voice sounded from the device.

"That was it!" Naru exclaimed. "Rewind that back," she ordered the young blond girl.

Su nodded and twisted a knob for several seconds and clicked a button next to it. This time, everyone heard Keitaro's voice. "Korakuen Hall, please."

"Good job, Su-chan," Motoko praised the girl, who responded with a smug grin.

Kitsune flagged a taxi down, and all 5 of the girls crammed themselves into it. The unsuspecting cabbie turned around and yelped when he saw 5 faces in the back of his cab. "Where to?" he said weakly.

"Korakuen Hall," Haruka said with a smile, wiggling uncomfortably. The other girls smiled at the cabbie as well, trying to look as innocent as possible.

The cabbie nodded nervously, turned around and put his car into gear. "Weirdoes," he grumbled to himself before accelerating into the flow of traffic.

* * *

When the cab came to a stop outside a complex of buildings, Keitaro pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and passed it to the cabbie, who accepted it graciously. "Keep the change," he said. 

"Thanks a lot, young man. And good luck to you," the cabbie said as Keitaro opened the door and slid out.

"Thanks," Keitaro said as he held the door open for Shinobu. When he closed the door, the cab left immediately. Shinobu gazed around in wonder. There were buildings with flashing lights everywhere, even though it was not even the middle of the day. "It's over here," he said to Shinobu, snapping her out of her reverie. She nodded and followed him to, strangely enough, the most innocuous looking building in the complex.

The inside of the building looked slightly weathered, with a worn-out red carpet and simple adornments. Keitaro looked around the foyer and found a monitor scrolling through the activities going on in the building that day. After a few moments, he found what he was looking for. "It's on the fifth floor. Come on, Shinobu-chan," Keitaro said to the young woman, walking towards the elevators across the hall. Shinobu followed him dutifully.

They climbed in the plain elevator, with stainless steel walls, and Keitaro pressed the button for the fifth floor. After the doors closed, they both shifted their weight around, occasionally meeting each other's eyes in the reflection of the polished steel walls. Keitaro stared at the ceiling and sighed mightily.

"You are going to do just fine," Shinobu said out of nowhere.

Keitaro looked at her. She smiled at him warmly. He reciprocated. "Thanks," he said.

The elevator's bell rang and the door opened on the fifth floor. They stepped out into another foyer, this one just as simple as the one downstairs. Poster boards stood on tripods on either side of the hallway leading to the hall, giving instructions to testers, including test times for each weight class. Featherweights were about twenty minutes away from the preliminary weigh-in.

Keitaro walked towards the double doors leading into the auditorium, with Shinobu shadowing him. He pulled the middle door open for Shinobu to step through first, and he followed. The auditorium was smaller than Keitaro had expected it to be, looking like it could not seat more than 2500 people. There were people sitting sporadically all over the hall, with a more concentrated group near the ring. There were two minimumweight boxers sparring for a panel of judges in the ring.

"Oy, Keitaro!" Keitaro's ears perked up at the sound of the familiar voice calling his name. He and Shinobu turned to see Ippo, Aoki, Kimura, and Takamura coming towards him. He felt Shinobu move closer to him and cling to his arm.

"It's alright, Shinobu. Don't you remember these guys?" he asked her.

"Brought your girlfriend with you, eh?" Aoki said to Keitaro, grinning widely.

"She's not my girlfriend," Keitaro explained.

"Ah, so she's your whole fan base?" Takamura cackled.

Kimura stepped forward, ignoring the taunts from the two. "How are you feeling today, Keitaro?" he asked.

Keitaro chuckled. "Nervous."

Ippo smiled. "You wouldn't be human if you weren't." He turned his attention onto the girl clasping onto Keitaro's arm. "Ah, I remember you. You were with Keitaro-san back when we first met. Shinobu-chan, right?" Ippo reached out to shake the teenager's hand.

Shinobu released her grip on Keitaro and shook Ippo's hand. She was just as tall as the man she was greeting, but his grip felt much more powerful than she would have expected from someone as small as she was. "It's a pleasure to see you again," she said formally.

"Can I trust you guys to watch Shinobu-chan for me without getting into trouble?" Keitaro asked, his voice leveling caution at Takamura in general.

Takamura scoffed. "Whom do you take me for? I'm the great Takamura Mamoru-sama. No one will dare lay a finger on her while I'm around."

Aoki sniggered. "Not even yourself?" Without warning, Takamura punched Aoki squarely in the face, knocking him out cold. Shinobu yelped, scurrying behind Keitaro.

"See?" Takamura said, motioning at Aoki's prone body. "If anyone tries anything, they'll end up just like him."

"Everything will be fine," Ippo assured Keitaro. Keitaro gestured for Shinobu to follow the others while he changed. Kimura gave him directions to the locker room and he found it at last after passing it twice and backtracking. He swung the door open and stepped in, and at least a dozen eyes fell on him, glaring at him malevolently. He froze under their icy glares.

Keitaro stepped forward carefully, trying to appear unbothered. He felt their eyes leaving him, and he suddenly remembered he had forgotten to breathe. He found an empty locker and sat down in front of it, dropping his bag. People were murmuring all around him, and he could have sworn he heard someone say something about "another small fry."

Wanting to get out of that environment as quickly as possible, Keitaro hurriedly changed into his sparring clothes and tossed his bag into the empty locker. Keitaro turned back towards the exit in time to see and attendant step into the room and call for attention. "Featherweights will now weigh in and proceed to the written test."

* * *

"With you around, little Shinobu, it's a surprise that Keitaro is able to keep his weight," Takamura said, already munching down on his fifth cookie. 

"I'm glad you like them," Shinobu said, fishing out several more from her bag.

"They really are good," Kimura noted.

"You should come down to my restaurant sometime, Shinobu-chan. I'll fix up my best ramen for you," Aoki said, helping himself to another cookie from Shinobu's hand.

Ippo, who was still training for his upcoming match, was unable to partake of Shinobu's sweets, and did his best to ignore his empty stomach. "They should be about finished now," he said.

They had been waiting for the better part of an hour now, sitting in the upper deck of the hall. The bantamweights had finished their sparring tests just a few minutes ago, and the judges were now pacing around, waiting for the next group of fighters.

"Think he choked on the test?" Takamura asked.

"Apparently not," Ippo said, pointing to a group of people filing into the hall from one of the entrance doors on the floor level. Keitaro was right in the middle of the group, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bolt to the nearest exit.

"He looks so scared," Shinobu said.

"You're right, Shinobu-chan," Aoki said, resting his hand on the young woman's shoulder. "However, this means he passed the written test."

"Really?" Shinobu asked. Her face brightened immediately. Kimura nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. "Then that should mean the hardest part for him is over, right?"

Takamura shook his head. "Not really. He hasn't done a terrible amount of sparring, so he'll be at a disadvantage compared to most of these guys."

Shinobu clasped her hands together. "You can do it, sempai," she whispered.

"Shinobu-chan?"

Shinobu gasped at the sound of the all-too familiar voice. The group of men with her all turned to look at the source of the voice and they collectively blushed at the sight of a group of beautiful women heading their way.

"Is that you, Shinobu-chan?" Naru asked again. "Who are those people you are with?"

"Is this a dream?" Kimura asked, his jaw hanging loosely.

"It's those same hotties from the beach house, right?" Takamura said. Ippo nodded his head.

"Ah, it's you guys. What are you doing here with Shinobu-chan?" Kitsune asked.

"Where is Keitaro?" Naru demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. Even though they were a group of veteran boxers, none of them could stare down the glare Naru was giving them, and they all pointed down towards the ring.

"Hey! Keitaro is getting in the ring!" Su exclaimed, jumping onto the railing and pointing at him. "Good luck, Keitaro!" she screamed before Shinobu tackled her to the ground, covering her mouth.

* * *

Keitaro was certain he did not just imagine that voice in his head. He turned and looked up, seeing just about everyone he knew sitting or standing together in the upper deck of the hall. The sight scared him and excited him at the same time. They were all there to see him. Or was it that they were there to rescue Shinobu from the clutches of a demented pervert? The look Naru shot him confirmed his worst fear. It was a good thing he was a good distance away from her, or else he might not have been able to finish his test. 

A referee stood in the middle of the ring. "Boxers, to the center, please." Keitaro meandered over to the middle of the ring, trying to avoid looking at his opponent, who was grimacing at him. Had Keitaro taken a good look at him, he would have seen he was just as nervous as he was. Looking at the referee, Keitaro suddenly became aware that he was giving them instructions. "Keep your guards up, and watch for illegal blows. Follow my instructions at all times. Is that clear?" Keitaro and his opponent nodded at the referee. "To your corners, and wait for the bell!"

Keitaro turned around, and as he walked back to his corner, he looked up and saw everyone watching him. Naru still looked angry. The others seemed to be arguing about something. They even brought Haruka along with them. He would just have to explain the truth. No sense in worrying about it right now, when he needed to focus on the spar. He turned around and leaned against his corner post, watching his opponent shadow box in his corner.

* * *

"He looks even more nervous now!" Shinobu wailed. "I can't believe you followed us here!" 

"You expected us to let him take off with you without telling anyone?" Motoko asked Shinobu, keeping her tone perfectly even. "And leaving you with a bunch of strange men while he cavorts off in some ring?"

"Who the hell do you think you are talking about?" Aoki said, glaring evilly at Motoko with his best "school delinquent" face. In one quick motion, Motoko drew her sword and slipped behind Aoki and had her blade to his throat in the blink of an eye. "Please forgive me," Aoki begged off.

"Now, now, Motoko-chan," Haruka said, tapping her blade away from Aoki's neck. "Shinobu seems just fine, after all."

Motoko relented, releasing Aoki and sheathing her blade. "Thanks a lot, lady. What did you say your name was?" Aoki asked.

"Haruka Urashima," Haruka answered, shaking Aoki's hand.

"Ah, so you are Keitaro's sister, right?"

Haruka chuckled. "I'm flattered. Actually, I'm his aunt."

Aoki's smile turned into a lewd grin after learning Haruka was older than Keitaro. "Always interested in the older ones, aren't you?" Kimura whispered to him.

"Leave me alone," Aoki shot back warningly, turning back to Haruka and smiling.

"If he survives this, I'm going to kill him," Naru sneered.

Haruka chuckled, patting Naru on the back. "After watching this, do you think you'll be able to?"

"What do you mean, Haruka-san? This is Keitaro we are talking about, remember?" Naru responded.

* * *

Keitaro danced in his corner, making sure he felt loose. Kamogawa's voice rang in his ears. Use your feet. Stick and move. Strangely, remembering his instructions calmed him. He raised his fists. 

**DING**

Keitaro walked to center ring and tapped gloves with his opponent and took a quick step backwards. He danced around his opponent, getting a feel for being in the ring against a real opponent. Neither he nor his opponent seemed willing to make the first move, and they circled around each other for twenty seconds.

"His heart is probably racing right now," Ippo said, watching the goings on in the ring calmly.

"His movements seem sharp, though," Takamura noted. "Let's see if they remain that way when he takes a hit."

Keitaro was just about to inch closer to his opponent when he suddenly rushed towards him. Panicking, Keitaro half-turned and ran away, trying to keep his distance.

"What the hell is he doing?" Aoki said, looking disgusted.

"Being Keitaro," Naru said. "This is just like him."

Keitaro could hear the people outside jeering him for running away from his opponent, who was stalking him with a purpose now. After all, there was nothing to fear from an opponent who seemed content with tucking his tail and fleeing. The next time he runs in, Keitaro decided, he would plant his feet and fight it out. However, when the dash came, Keitaro ran in the other direction.

"This is pathetic," Takamura said, yawning.

"I can understand his feelings," Ippo stated. "Before he can really fight, he has to fight against his instinct to run away. Victims of bullying usually have that problem." Naru and Motoko stared at Ippo in shock. "However, as soon as he realizes he has to stay and fight…"

Keitaro planted his feet. This time he would force himself not to run. Given the opening, his opponent rushed at him, looking to hit him high with a right straight. Instead of a green glove, Keitaro saw a green ball flying at him. The punch missed him by inches, and he fired back with a quick left jab, striking his opponent on the soft cheek of his headgear.

Having scored a hit, Keitaro backed away, resuming his counter-clockwise dancing around his opponent. There wasn't much force behind the punch, Keitaro could tell, since his opponent looked embarrassed more than hurt by it. _"Step into the punch,"_ Keitaro heard the voice of Kamogawa tell him in his mind.

Keitaro took the initiative this time, stepping in and delivering a double left jab over his opponent's guard and followed with a tremendous right hand that struck him in the mouth. Keitaro felt the feedback in his right hand, and he knew that punch was effective.

_"Get into the body!"_ Keitaro stepped into close range, pounding with both hands into his opponent's midsection. _"Dig, dig, dig!"_ Most of Keitaro's blows struck arms and air, but his rush was so fast that his opponent had no time to counter attack. In fact, he was using both arms to block the hits to his abdomen. Keitaro saw a flash of light and color in his mind's eye and he reacted, taking a half step backwards and unleashing a compact right hook that landed squarely on his opponent's chin.

Keitaro reached back to fire another punch, but his target was no longer standing. His opponent fell to the mat in a heap. "Down!" the referee exclaimed, jumping between Keitaro and the fallen fighter. "To the neutral corner!" Keitaro turned and walked towards the corner, wondering exactly what he had done. He could have sworn he saw Kamogawa's mitt in the middle of that rush, telling him exactly where to hit. He looked down at his gloves. His hands were shaking.

"Did you see that?" Kitsune yelped. "He just knocked that guy down like he was nothing!"

Takamura grinned smugly. "Just like I trained him to."

"You didn't teach him that, Coach Kamogawa did," Kimura said, shooting Takamura a dirty look.

"That was picture perfect," Ippo noted. "He lowered his guard with that body rush and slammed a hook right into his blind spot! There is no way he'll get up from that."

Ippo was right. The referee knelt down next to the fallen fighter to check on him, and then waved his hands over his head, signaling the end of the spar. The referee instructed Keitaro to head back to the locker room and wait for the results of the test as a group of physicians tended to the knocked out man. Keitaro stepped out of the ring in a daze, the other testers congratulating him on his knockout victory as he removed his gear. But Keitaro did not know what to make of it. He did just as his coach had told him to do, but was it enough to pass? After all, winning or losing does not matter in this test.

And more importantly, he had quite a few things to explain to Naru and the others. He snapped his head back towards where the group was sitting, but they were no longer there. Keitaro cursed himself during his walk back to the locker room. He should have known somehow that taking Shinobu along would have invited nothing but trouble. Still, he had been the one to make the offer, so whatever punishment was to come his way he would accept. Either way, if it got him his Class C license, it would have been worth it.

* * *

A week later, Keitaro lay on his futon, staring at his prize: a laminated card with his name and signature on it. A prizefighter's license. His hard work these past months had culminated in that little piece of paper and plastic. It would not mean much to many people, but for him, it was the whole world opening up to him. 

Naru poked her head through the hole in Keitaro's ceiling. "Are you coming up, or what?" she asked him. Keitaro peered at her quizzically. This was the first time she spoke to him since the incident a week ago. She had railed on him verbally, but, surprisingly enough, she did not Naru Punch™ him to the moon. In fact, neither she nor Motoko had tried to strike him for taking Shinobu to Tokyo unannounced, although he admitted to himself that he would have deserved it. "Do you want to study together or not?" Naru asked impatiently.

Keitaro glanced between Naru and his newly acquired license. Then he looked just at the woman with her head coming out of his ceiling, her long hair cascading down almost within reach of his arm. Even from where he was he could smell the fragrance of her shampoo. "I'll be right there," Keitaro responded. Naru immediately retracted her head from the hole and covered it.

Keitaro stared at his license a moment more before he stood, stuffing it into his back pocket. Another of his dreams was waiting for him upstairs, and he did not want to keep her long.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro gets his first taste of what the world of professional boxing is like...as a spectator! And the name of his debut match opponent is revealed, and it's someone many Love Hina fans will recognize! Who is it? Find out next time on Hajime no Keitaro!!!


	13. Wolf vs Gazelle

Hajime no Keitaro: Wolf vs. Gazelle

Keitaro tossed and turned most of the previous night. He stood in his room, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He thought he looked fatigued, but certainly did not feel it. He was full of nervous energy. Today was to be the day he would experience his first real-life boxing match. The fact he would be merely a spectator did nothing to quell the churning in his stomach.

"You look like a wreck," Kitsune noted to him during breakfast twenty minutes later. "What's on your mind?"

Keitaro shook his head vigorously. "I just didn't sleep well last night. I'm fine, really."

"When will you be home tonight, sempai?" Shinobu asked him.

"Most likely not until very late," he responded. "Don't wait up for me."

Chopsticks clinking against china and the occasional slurp were the only sounds in the room for the remainder of the meal. Keitaro told everyone about the match today, and he expounded that he was merely a spectator, and that only because Ippo had furnished him a ticket. Two things kept him from acquiring more: he lacked the money to furnish a Hinata Sou field trip for everyone and the tickets were sold out anyway.

When Ippo gave Keitaro his ticket, he asked him why he didn't give it to someone closer to him, such as his mother. "She doesn't like to see me get hurt," Ippo had explained. Keitaro concluded after that that everyone he knew would likely show up to his debut match, if just to revel in the joy of seeing him get his clock cleaned.

Keitaro donned his jacket and kicked his feet into his shoes. "I'm leaving now," he said, waving to the group of girls standing in the middle of the common room.

"Wish Ippo-kun luck for us, would you?" Kitsune asked, returning Keitaro's wave.

"Got a wager in on it?" Naru asked, elbowing her friend in the side.

"Shut up," Kitsune murmured, glowering at Naru.

"Will do," Keitaro said with a smile, letting himself out the door. Gazing up at the clear sky, he took a deep breath and let it out deliberately. Outside, he could finally expend some of the energy built up inside him. He dashed across the courtyard and bounded down the stairs.

* * *

When Keitaro arrived at Korakuen Hall, he was astonished by the size of the crowd gathered outside the building. Not only was there a significant line outside the entrance of the hall, but there was yet another outside the Will Call window. Groaning, he looked at his watch, wondering if he would get to his seat on time to see any part of the undercard.

Twenty minutes later, he had his ticket in hand and joined the ever-growing line to get inside the building. He eyed several reporters casing the crowd, asking their predictions for the fight's main event. Eventually, one of the reporters, clad in a cheap business suit caught Keitaro's eye. He was walking right towards him! He took the cigarette out of his mouth before asking him, "I know you, don't I?"

"Are you talking to me?" Keitaro asked, pointing at himself.

"Yes. You're the newest member of the Kamogawa Gym, Keitaro Urashima, aren't you?"

"Y-yeah, that's me," Keitaro responded. "How do you know me, though?"

The man laughed lightheartedly. "I suppose I should introduce myself, huh? I'm Fuji Minoru. I'm a writer for 'Boxing Fan Magazine'."

A sudden realization made Keitaro snap his fingers. "Ah, now I remember. I've seen you around the gym a few times, talking with Coach."

"That's right! I heard you got your license a couple of weeks ago. Congratulations on that."

"Thanks," Keitaro said. He was flustered that someone that works in print would know him, since he had yet to debut.

"You know, nothing but great things have been coming out of Kamogawa since your sempai first stepped into the ring. Are you the next big thing on the horizon?" Fuji clicked his pen and placed it on a pad of paper, ready to write his response down for the record.

Keitaro protested, "N-no way. I haven't even debuted yet."

Fuji put his pen into his jacket pocket and pulled a long drag from the cigarette hanging from his lips. "You act just like Makunouchi. I guess you are worthy of being his kouhai after all."

"Thank you," Keitaro said, bowing slightly.

"Now, speaking as Makunouchi's kouhai," Fuji began again, retrieving his pen once more, "care to give an insider's prediction on the outcome of his match this evening?"

"Um, well, I know Ippo-san is in his best condition for the fight tonight, and he's going to give it 100. I know that his opponent is a former amateur world champion, so you can't count out either of them. I wouldn't be mad if Ippo-san came out on top at the end, though."

Fuji finished writing Keitaro's statement down, chuckling. "That was pretty good, Keitaro-kun. Thanks for the statement. I'll be sure to be there when you debut, too."

"It was nice to meet you, Fuji-san," Keitaro said, shaking the reporter's hand. He watched as Fuji met up with another reporter and they entered the building through the press entrance.

At long last, Keitaro handed his ticket to an attendant near the entrance, who ripped it in two and handed him the stub with his assigned seat number. Entering the hall when it was full ironically made it appear much larger. The ring looked much further away than he remembered. The first match on the undercard was already underway, with two unknown's brawling in the center of the ring.

Keitaro's ears perked up when he heard a familiar voice calling his name. He turned his head to see Aoki and Kimura waving him over. Looking at his seat number, he realized he was assigned a seat with the two of them. Meandering through the crowd, Keitaro made his way over to them. "Hey, you guys," he greeted them, sitting in his seat.

Aoki slapped him hard on the back with a grin. "Welcome to your first match!"

"You must be pretty excited," Kimura said.

"Yeah," Keitaro admitted. "Is it always this busy, though? It took forever to get in here."

"Not usually this early, but the main event tonight sure to be a huge crowd pleaser," Kimura explained.

"Yeah, this definitely has the feel of a title match," Aoki said, looking around at the crush of people lining each row.

Keitaro gestured towards the ring. "Who are these two guys?"

"Ah, who cares?" Aoki grumbled. "The only match that matters is the last one anyway."

"Just sit back and enjoy," Kimura said.

Keitaro nodded and turned his head back towards the ring. As the matches progressed, the number of faces and gestures Keitaro made whenever a clean hit or down was scored amused Aoki and Kimura. They could tell he was really enjoying himself. "Just wait until Ippo's match," Kimura said when the crowd roared so loudly after a KO that Keitaro nearly jumped out of his seat. "The crowd will be this loud between rounds."

"You're kidding," Keitaro said, awestruck.

"Just wait and see," Aoki interjected with a wink. "I think Ippo is up next anyway."

The main event was indeed next, as the crowd began to stir with exuberant enthusiasm. Chants began to break out sporadically for one side or the other, and it seemed as time passed, more of the crowd rose to their feet and remained standing. Abruptly, the lights in the arena turned off, and the audience exploded with cheers. A spotlight shone on one corner of the hall, and another on the opposite corner. Ippo and Vorg entered into the spotlights, followed closely by their trainers and their entourages.

Keitaro almost needed to clamp his hands over his ears because the crowd noise was so intense. Not until both fighters entered the ring and the ring announcer, wearing an immaculate tuxedo, stepped to the middle of the ring with a microphone in hand did the noise finally die down. For a few seconds before the announcer raised the microphone to his mouth, Keitaro could have sworn he could hear a pin drop.

"Ladies and gentleman," the announcer began, pausing as the crowd roared to life once more. "Dynamite Glove proudly presents the main event of the evening: the Class A Prize Money Tournament final in the Featherweight division; eight rounds of boxing to determine the number one contender for the Japanese Boxing Commission Featherweight Championship!" Keitaro was dumbfounded, as the crowd roared in applause once more, that Ippo and his opponent were able to completely ignore the utter lunacy going on around them. They each walked around in their corners, eyeing the floor beneath them, throwing punches to keep their bodies warmed up.

"Introducing first, in the red corner, fighting out of the great country of Russia, the former amateur world champion, Vorg…Zangief!" The foreigner raised a fist to acknowledge the crowd, which seemed to be split in half with cheers and boos. "And in the blur corner," the announcer lowered his microphone as the crowd became deafening with cheers of "Makunouchi". "In the blue corner," the announcer said more loudly into the microphone over the din, "from the great city of Tokyo, the undefeated comeback KO kid, Ippo…Makunouchi!"

The chants continued at the same thunderous volume as the fighters met in center ring for the in-ring instructions from the referee. When the fighters returned to their corners, the cheers died down significantly, but were still loud enough so that Keitaro still needed to yell so that Kimura and Aoki could hear him. "Ippo-san looks like he's in great condition!"

"Yeah, that Vorg is looking like he's in top form too," Aoki added.

"Ippo is looking more tense than normal, though," Kimura said, looking at how Ippo seemed to be wrinkling his brow as he stretched along the ropes. "He must be feeling the intensity of the pressure of this match."

Keitaro began to worry for his sempai, but before long he realized there was nothing he could do from where he was and decided to cheer for Ippo until the bitter end.

The bell rang loudly, and the crowd came alive again as the competitors took their fighting stances, Ippo in the peek-a-boo, and Vorg in an orthodox style. The tension in the ring became palpable as the two fighters calmly approached each other. Quite suddenly, Ippo crouched down, weaving his head back and forth, while Vorg crouched down at the same time and dashed forward.

Keitaro gasped audibly. "So fast," he mumbled.

Ippo was put back on the defensive as Vorg threw left after left at close range. Keitaro could see Kamogawa bellowing something but could not make it out from the noise of the sell-out crowd. Ippo responded to his trainer's order, whatever it was, by throwing jabs of his own.

Keitaro was amazed as he watched Ippo stand toe-to-toe with the amateur world champion, each of them throwing quick lefts to try to land the opening blow of the match. The equilibrium was broken when Vorg slipped a jab and landed a sharp right uppercut. Ippo took a step back and raised his guard, but Vorg blasted it away with another uppercut with his left hand. Having taken the first two clean blows of the fight, Ippo took a quick step backwards, but found himself trapped against the ropes.

"This guy is damn good," Aoki noted, his eyes widening.

"He changed his rhythm so quickly, Ippo never saw those uppers coming," Kimura said, equally surprised.

Ippo curled his body into a ball and tightened his guard, but Vorg ripped it open again with a quick succession of short uppers. A left hook followed, but Ippo ducked under it and moved away from the ropes. Vorg quickly cut him off, and pounded into his tight guard with rights and lefts, pinning him into the neutral corner.

"He's completely on the defensive," Keitaro said. "He won't stand a chance if he doesn't hit him back!"

Vorg landed a crushing uppercut followed by a hook to send Ippo reeling.

"He's completely out of it," Aoki screeched, pulling at his hair. "Look out, Ippo!"

When Vorg stepped back to finish Ippo off, Ippo started to throw out compact lefts and rights, forcing Vorg back to center ring.

The crowd rose to its feet, and the Makunouchi chants thundered out once again. Ippo suddenly stopped wobbling, and Keitaro could see him shake his head once, then twice. "Is that possible?" Keitaro asked. "To throw out punches like that, even when you are unconscious?"

Kimura squinted down at the ring as the two fighters cautiously closed on each other once more. "Under normal circumstances, no. But Ippo is anything but normal. You could say he is like a bell. The harder you hit him, the louder his response."

Ippo took the initiative as he entered firing range. He threw out several concise jabs and Vorg returned with his own. Eventually, the two bumped their shoulders together aggressively, continuing to throw compact blows to the head and body. The two continued to exchange punches as the bell rang to conclude the first round.

"Great job, Makunouchi!"

"Way to keep up with the world champ, Makunouchi!"

"Beat him next round!"

Keitaro panted as he realized he had been holding his breath during the time the two had locked horns at center ring. "That was something else," he said.

"The fight is going exactly as coach Kamogawa planned it," Aoki noted.

Keitaro was dumbstruck. It was planned for Ippo to step right into the amateur world champion's killing zone and trade hits with him. If he were asked to do such a thing, he highly doubted he would be able to withstand it for merely a few seconds, let alone for eight full rounds.

"Round two!" the ringside announcer said into the intercom, and a second later, the bell rang to commence the round.

The fighters rushed to the middle and met shoulders once again. The hitting match from the latter part of the previous round continued, but as time passed, Vorg's punches seemed to be slightly faster and sharper. At last, two minutes into the round, a down-up combination sent Ippo's head flying backward and Vorg moved in for the kill.

"Ippo's gonna lose," Keitaro wailed, clutching his head in his hands, not wanting to watch his sempai be defeated but unable to look away.

Ippo ducked under Vorg's right cross at the last possible instant. With Vorg badly out of position, Ippo jumped forward, landing a tremendous left hook to Vorg's chin. Vorg stumbled backwards from the force of the blow, and his glove touched the canvas to the delight of the crowd.

"Down! To the neutral corner!" the referee ordered Ippo, pointing towards the ring post furthest away. As Ippo walked towards the corner gasping for breath, the referee administered the count to the fallen Vorg.

"What the hell was that punch?" Keitaro asked, completely stunned by the sudden turn of events.

Aoki and Kimura were rather surprised by Ippo flipping the match so suddenly, but chuckled at Keitaro's flabbergasted reaction. Ippo's comebacks were commonplace, but to the first-time viewer, it must seem surreal.

"The Gazelle Punch," Kimura explained.

"The what-now?" Keitaro asked.

"It's a vertical hook that uses your lower body weight to supply the power. You duck down and jump forward, putting your entire weight into the punch."

"It was supposed to be Ippo's Sunday punch, but I don't think that's going to happen here," Aoki said, pointing back towards the ring.

As the referee reached the count of eight, Vorg stood straight up with no effort and took his fighting pose. Giving him a look up and down, the referee then stepped aside and allowed the match to continue. Ippo rushed out of his corner and started pounding away with heavy swings over Vorg's guard. But his defense held well, and Ippo's punches soon began connecting with air.

Ippo ducked another right cross and crouched into the position for the Gazelle Punch and let the left hook fly, but this time Vorg guarded it perfectly. Bolstered by blocking his opponent's best weapon, Vorg began a vicious counter-attack, showing absolutely no damage from the knockdown he took thirty seconds prior.

A left hook left Ippo's legs shaking like a leaf in the wind and Vorg stepped back to fire a right uppercut. Ippo clenched his guard together and blocked it, but at once, a left crashed into his head, and he tumbled sideways, falling to the canvas.

"Holy shit, he just took a huge one," Aoki exclaimed in shock.

"That chopping left hit him behind the ear," Kimura stated. "He'll be lucky if he can get back up from that!"

Keitaro's may have looked like he had just died in shock. It looked to him just a moment ago that Ippo was about to win the match by knockout, and now he could only hope that he would not lose by the same decision.

Ippo stood up on the count of three, but immediately fell backwards onto his behind. Desperate to get his legs underneath him, Ippo clung to the ropes and forcefully pulled himself back to his feet. By count eight, he had his feet planted underneath him and his guard up.

The referee called for the match to continue, but the bell sounded before the fighters could clash again.

"I'm exhausted from just watching this," Keitaro said, falling backwards into his chair.

"Just imagine how it must be for Ippo right now," Aoki said.

"No kidding. Just when Ippo thought he had the match won, Vorg blocked his finisher, hit him with his own finisher, the White Fang, and knocked him down," Kimura said. "What can he do now?"

"Round three!" the announcer stated, and the bell rang once more.

Ippo stood close to his corner, his breathing ragged. Vorg closed in carefully, trying to judge Ippo's damage. As he inched closer, Ippo opened his guard, inviting the hitting match to commence once again. Vorg complied, stepping into Ippo and just grazing his cheek with another of his patented right uppercuts.

Ippo fired back with a flurry, at last piercing through Vorg's guard and landing a hard left hand. Vorg responded with a right to Ippo's body followed by a left to the head that sent Ippo crashing into the ropes. Vorg rushed in, beating on Ippo like a rag doll before the referee stepped in and called for a standing eight count.

Keitaro could feel his chest tighten as the referee continued with the count. Ippo looked to be completely out of it, clinging to the ropes to remain standing. However, by the end of the count, Ippo had raised his hands and the referee called for the match to continue.

Vorg closed in immediately, and with one right uppercut, Ippo was felled for the second knockdown of the round.

"This is the end," Kimura said. "He's got nothing left."

Keitaro clenched his teeth, fighting hard against the burning sensation creeping into his eyes. Ippo would stand up. He had to. There was no way he would lose with his kouhai watching him. "Get up, Ippo! You can do it!" he cheered, cupping his hands to his mouth. He nudged Aoki and Kimura. "You guys cheer for him too!"

"You're right, Keitaro! Let's go, Ippo! Get up and beat the snot out of him!"

Responding to the throng's call for him to continue, Ippo slowly rose and raised his hands. The referee took an extra second to gauge Ippo before he let the match continue yet again to the delight of the capacity crowd.

Vorg looked surprised by the referee's call, but he darted in immediately to attempt to end the match. Ippo landed a right hook out of nowhere as Vorg dived in, and he kept up the pressure with a swarm of punches.

"What amazing stamina he has," Keitaro said, and Aoki and Kimura agreed.

Ippo began to take the upper hand in hits until Vorg landed a splendid right hand as the round wound to a close. Kamogawa was in the ring in an instant when the bell rang, keeping Vorg from hitting Ippo after the bell.

"He made it through, somehow," Keitaro said, his voice hoarse from shouting. He started to wonder if the match would ever end, when he realized that was only three rounds. His first match would last as long as four. He wondered, as Ippo stood once more to return to battle, if he would be as bloody and beaten as Ippo when he stepped in the ring for the first time.

"Round four!" The bell rang, and the fighters ran together like magnets, clashing in the middle of the ring. To a casual observer, this round would have appeared to be the same as the last three, but to the trained eye, it was obvious Vorg's tactic had changed.

"He's going to Ippo's body!" Keitaro cried out.

"Damn. They figured out the key to Ippo's ability to take so many shots," Kimura said.

"He's taking Ippo's legs out from under him," Aoki said in frustration.

Vorg continued to dodge Ippo's attacks and counter to the body, slamming power shots into his abdomen over and over. When Ippo's heels hit the canvas, Vorg immediately switched to attacking Ippo's head with fierce combinations.

Eventually, Ippo ran out of gas, leaning against the ropes with his guard completely down. Vorg cocked his right back and fired, but missed completely as his body stumbled forward and his legs gave out from underneath him.

"What happened?" Keitaro asked, looking at Aoki and Kimura to his right and left.

"He did it, finally," Aoki muttered.

"Vorg has run out of stamina," Kimura said, wide-eyed.

Noticing his opponent had weakened, Ippo pushed off the ropes and hammered Vorg with a right straight that sent his entire upper body flying backwards. Capitalizing on the change, Ippo found another gear, landing left and rights with tremendous speed and accuracy.

Vorg, responding to his trainer's call to fight back, threw punches back at Ippo, but the snap in them was long gone. Ippo ducked a wide right hand, and Keitaro noticed he was in the perfect position for the Gazelle Punch. Something felt wrong to him, though, and his suspicions were confirmed as Vorg swung his guard in tight. If Ippo missed with his Gazelle Punch, Vorg would counter with his White Fang and put Ippo out for good.

Keitaro clenched his eyes shut as Ippo bounded upwards to throw the Gazelle Punch, but a sudden roar from the crowd made him snap his eyes back open. Ippo had somehow landed his Gazelle Punch to Vorg's body, and he was slumped over in agony. As the crowd's cheering became almost unbearable, Ippo threw a rapid series of combinations that left Vorg collapsed on his hands and knees.

"He did it again! I don't believe it!" Aoki screamed.

"And stay down this time!" Kimura cheered.

Keitaro felt his heart pounding in his chest as the count continued. Most unexpectedly for anyone that had seen the brutal knockdown, Vorg raised his upper body from the canvas at the count of six, and pulled himself up to his feet by count eight. The crowd quieted considerably as the referee trained his eyes on Vorg to see if he was able to continue.

The very moment the referee turned towards Ippo to call for the match to continue, Ippo burst out of the neutral corner and pinned Vorg against the ropes with a tremendous flurry. With his arms flying side-to-side from the force of Ippo's rush, Vorg flung his body forwards and pinned Ippo's arms at his side by clinching him as tightly as he could.

The referee jumped between them, calling for Vorg to break the hold, but he simply clung tighter to his opponent.

"I don't blame him at all for trying to hang on like that," Aoki said, glancing between the fight clock and the ring.

"Right," Kimura said, nodding his head in approval. "It might look like he's really desperate, but it's actually a move only a cagey veteran like him could use at this point."

The referee at last separated the fighters, and Ippo took several quick breaths before closing the distance again. Vorg fired first, throwing a ragged left jab that Ippo blocked, followed by a right hook that may as well have been in slow motion. Even still, Ippo just barely moved his head out of the way. Vorg continued to press his attack, but his fists only caught air.

Ippo fired back, easily knocking Vorg's guard away, but when he stepped in to capitalize, the bell called for the end of the round. Keitaro watched the two fighters stumble back to their corners, their heads hung low and their breathing rapid and ragged.

"Did you see what I saw at the end of that round?" Kimura asked.

"I just saw Ippo moving in for the kill until the bell saved Vorg," Keitaro said.

"I wonder just who the bell saved. Just before the bell, Vorg was in the position to throw out his White Fang," Aoki said.

"Yeah. This fight isn't over, yet. Vorg still has his finisher, and Ippo wasn't able to land his the last time he tried," Kimura said.

"And Ippo has got to be at his limit," Aoki postulated. "He's never taken this many punches in a match. If he doesn't end it in this next round, Kamogawa could very well throw in the towel!"

Keitaro was horrified that the worst-case scenario was still a possibility, even though Ippo seemed to get a decisive knockdown in the last round. Even still, he could not ignore the wealth of knowledge being passed on to him by his sempai from the ring. He would watch all the way to the end, regardless of the outcome. Gritting his teeth, he brooded down upon the ring below.

"Round five!" The crowd was relatively quiet with anticipation as the bell rang to commence the round. Both fighters stepped forward cautiously. As they both reached the middle of the ring, they widened their stances and opened their guards, each giving a clear challenge to the other. They would decide the match by an inside exchange.

The crowd erupted as the fighters began brawling in the middle of the ring, as if the people in attendance could also feel the fight reaching a fevered pitch. The melee was relentless, each landing a multitude of blows to the face and body, but neither backed down. Each clean hit was met with two in return, the dull sounds of gloves on flesh echoing through the hall. Even from his distant vantage point, Keitaro could tell the two were running out of oxygen as they began to turn blue in the face.

Ippo's head was suddenly rocked backwards by a stiff right hook and Vorg quickly shifted his stance.

Keitaro recognized it immediately, and he leaped out of his seat. "He's gonna go for the White Fang!"

With blazing agility, Ippo ducked down to avoid the right upper, and Vorg's following chopping left cut through the air as Ippo swayed backwards.

"H-he avoided it completely!" Aoki stammered.

Vorg had reached the absolute end of his rope, as his strongest weapon was defeated. He lifted his head, gasping for breath. Ippo pounced, dipping his hips down as far as they could from a standing position, and he cocked his left into position. Keitaro felt a chill go down his spine as he watched Ippo fire a massive Gazelle Punch that landed squarely against Vorg's chin, sending him into a tailspin. The impact was incredible; Keitaro could have sworn a bomb went off in center ring.

Like a puppet cut from its strings, Vorg crumpled to one knee. The crowd went absolutely ballistic, Keitaro, Aoki, and Kimura included, and the referee had to shout his order for Ippo to return to the neutral corner. As the count commenced, Ippo had to wrap an arm around the rope in the corner to remain on his feet.

Vorg remained completely motionless until the count of seven when, to the astonishment of all in attendance, he suddenly lifted himself into a standing position. The count persisted however, since he had not lifted his hands into a fighting pose. Keitaro was surprised as he saw the smallest of smiles play across Vorg's face before he collapsed forward into the arms of the referee.

"Ten!" the referee called out, grabbing the fallen fighter to prevent him from taking a dangerous spill onto his head.

Keitaro raised both hands over his head, screaming out loud as hard as he could. In the ring, Ippo collapsed in the corner, raising his arms in victory. Aoki lifted Keitaro up from the floor, waving him over his head. Kimura was nearly jumping up and down where he stood, clapping his hands.

As the bedlam died down, a stretcher was brought to the ring for the fallen Vorg, but it was deemed unnecessary when he stood on his own power and approached Ippo. Applause rained down as the two fighters congratulated each other on what was surely the fight of both of their lives.

Suddenly, Ippo collapsed to the canvas, unable to stand under his own two feet. Kamogawa called for the stretcher to return for his own boxer, and before Keitaro, Aoki, and Kimura could dislodge from the crowd, Ippo was whisked away from the ring and sent to a nearby hospital.

They were fortunate to catch a cab as soon as they exited the arena, and just as Ippo was stabilized and checked into a room, they caught up to Kamogawa and the rest of the corner crew in the hospital lobby.

"Is Ippo okay?" Aoki asked immediately, skipping the formalities.

"It seems so," Kamogawa explained. "However, he's still unconscious and they want to keep him for a few days for observation."

Everyone let out a sigh of relief, and everyone enjoyed a few moments of silence after the preceding stressful events. Keitaro remained for another hour, paying a short visit to Ippo before excusing himself. He still had a group of people awaiting his return at home, after all.

Sitting on the train bound for Hinata Onsen, Keitaro was mentally exhausted, yet he felt an unexplainable energy coursing throughout his own body. Seeing Ippo win, despite the fact he had been hospitalized for his efforts, charged him full of adrenaline. He wanted to follow the same path Ippo did. He wanted to get into the ring, lock horns with a strong opponent, and emerge victorious.

ONE WEEK LATER…

"Are you absolutely sure about this selection, coach?" Yagi asked. "To have him fight a prodigy in his debut match, isn't that asking too much of Keitaro-kun?"

"I'm absolutely sure," Kamogawa answered, leaning back in his chair, brooding out his office window.

"Isn't that setting him up for failure? Why not match him against another debut boxer? Are you even thinking about his future?"

"This is the perfect opportunity to see exactly what kind of boxer he is," Kamogawa explained calmly. "How does he respond to adversity? What kind of spirit does he have? Can he overcome impossible odds? If he can't do that much, he doesn't belong in this sport!"

Yagi was unconvinced. "I'll make the call, but I want you to know that it will be under protest." Yagi moved towards the door. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.

Kamogawa stopped him. "Have I ever let you down before, Yagi?"

Yagi turned the doorknob and opened the door. "There's a first time for everything, coach." With that, he left the office and closed the door firmly behind him.

* * *

Keitaro broke from his sprint, stopping dead in his tracks. He stepped forward one step at a time, throwing one fluid, endless combination of punches at the air in front of him, bobbing and weaving his head the whole time. He kept throwing punches until he felt a familiar burning sensation in both of his shoulders. He gritted his teeth against the pain, continuing his flurry of lefts and rights until he could no longer bear the agony.

Relaxing his stance, he broke into another dash, running as fast as his weary legs would carry him. He turned one final corner, wheezing as Kamogawa Gym came into view. As he approached, he saw a face he recognized approach the gym from the opposite direction. The face was still bandaged and slightly bruised, but it was unmistakable. Finding a renewed strength, Keitaro charged forward, meeting Ippo in front of the gym.

"Just finishing your roadwork?" Ippo asked cheerfully.

Keitaro nodded, unable to find the breath to manage a verbal response. His body collapsed forward, and he placed his hands on his knees.

"It's good to see you working so hard," Ippo said, somewhat forlornly.

"What are you doing here?" Keitaro said as he quickly recovered. "Shouldn't you be at home resting up? It's been barely a week since that death match."

Ippo laughed. "Yeah, well, I was bored sitting around doing nothing, so I thought I would just stop in and check up on things."

Keitaro nodded. Ippo's next match would be a title match. How could anyone expect him to just sit around for so long doing nothing? It was like giving a child a Christmas present in the middle of October, and telling the child they cannot open the present until Christmas day.

Ippo's presence caused a bit of commotion around the gym when he and Keitaro entered. Some of the members congratulated him on his latest victory; others suggested he go back home immediately so he could recover from his damage. Ippo allayed their fears, telling them he was just fine, although the look of his face told a different story.

"Kid!" shouted an all-too-familiar guttural voice. Both Ippo and Keitaro spun around on the spot to face Kamogawa, who was glaring malevolently in their direction.

"Yes!" Keitaro and Ippo shouted in unison.

Kamogawa marched directly towards them, holding his cane in a threatening manner. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay out of my gym until I told you otherwise!"

"Sorry!" the two young men yelped at once and turned tail to flee from the gym.

Kamogawa snagged Keitaro by the nape of his neck with the hook of his cane, preventing him from running by force. "If I catch you back here in the next three days, I'm going to personally put you back in the hospital," Kamogawa roared at Ippo as he ran out of the building. "Stop fussing, Keitaro. I wasn't talking to you," Kamogawa said with more than a touch of annoyance, releasing his cane from Keitaro's shirt.

"Before you leave, meet me in my office. There's something important we need to discuss." As was his modus operandi, Kamogawa turned and headed back towards his office without waiting for a reply from Keitaro.

"Yes, sir," Keitaro mumbled at Kamogawa's back. As he showered and changed, he wondered exactly what kind of trouble he, or one of his sempai who-shall-not-be-named, had gotten him into this time. When he knocked on the door to Kamogawa's office, his hands were nearly shaking in fear and anticipation.

"Come in!" came Kamogawa's voice from the other side of the portal. As Keitaro entered, he saw Kamogawa sitting in his chair as usual, with Yagi standing directly to his right. Both of the older men were giving him the sternest looks he could recall. Yagi motioned Keitaro wordlessly to sit, and Keitaro complied. He sat in a most uncomfortable silence until Kamogawa finally spoke. "It has been decided."

Keitaro glanced between Kamogawa and Yagi a few times as Kamogawa refused to elaborate on exactly what had been decided. As the seconds ticked away on the wall clock behind him, Keitaro felt the sense of dread having over him grow ever stronger, taking the shape of a cloaked reaper about to cleave his soul from his body.

"In two months, you will be fighting in your first match," Kamogawa said at last. Within the span of a second, Keitaro felt the dread in his mind dispelled completely, then returned to him tenfold. The pressure was so intense it dulled his senses. He could see that Kamogawa and Yagi were talking to him, but he could not for the life of him make out a single syllable. He heard nothing except a myriad of cacophonous laughing coming from the distance.

"Your opponent," Kamogawa said sternly, and Keitaro was pulled instantly from his daze, and he could hear Kamogawa's voice clearly once more. "Your opponent's name is Kentaro Sakata."

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro's first opponent is finally revealed, but the fighter behind the name is truly a force to be reckoned with. Will two months of intense training be enough for him to overcome the seemingly impossible odds facing him? Will he have the support he needs from the women in his life? Find out next time on Hajime no Keitaro!


	14. Training for Defeat

Hajime no Keitaro: Training For Defeat

Keitaro slipped the VHS tape given to him by Kamogawa into the VCR sitting atop the small, twenty-inch television, depressed the Play button, and shuffled backwards, sitting in the closest seat his body could find. His eyes were captivated by the screen, even as it played back nothing but static. He had not the slightest clue what to expect, but as he was ordered to studiously memorize all he could about his opponent, Kentaro Sakata, he was not going to miss a single moment.

The static on the playback blipped for just a moment, and the image changed to a boxing arena, which Keitaro supposed was Korakuen Hall. It seemed to be prior to a match, with two boxers dancing around their corners before the opening bell. Keitaro pulled the manila folder from across the table, opening it absentmindedly as his eyes remained solely focused on the television.

He glanced down at its contents: a head shot of Kentaro, and a few sheets of paper containing his vital statistics including height, weight class, and reach. Another sheet of paper Keitaro glanced over contained a quickly scribbled scouting report that read like nothing more than gibberish.

Keitaro shifted his focus back to the screen. Kentaro was in the blue corner, looking supremely confident, even though this was his first professional fight. As the camera panned closer to the ring, Keitaro gazed into Kentaro's eyes. A disconcerted feeling washed over him, and he was forced to avert his eyes, even though he was observing the match through recorded media.

The bell rang, commencing the match, and the two fighters converged upon each other in the center of the ring. Kentaro's opponent reached out with his left hand to touch gloves, and Kentaro responded by hitting the outstretched glove with a left of his own, knocking it away from his opponent's body. With incredible speed, Kentaro stepped into his range, firing a volley of right hands, hitting his opponent again and again before he finally retracted his left back into a guarded position. Seeing his window of opportunity close, Kentaro stepped backward, out of the range of his opponent's return left jab.

"He's fast," Keitaro stated the obvious. Accurate too, with a keen sense of timing, Keitaro added mentally. He seemed to know just where and when to strike. And he stepped out of danger just before the counter-punches came his way.

The first round played out like a broken record, with Kentaro showcasing his superior speed and accuracy. He landed two blows to one of his opponent's, and maintained the upper hand throughout the round. When the bell sounded, Kentaro had barely broken a sweat, while his opponent, thoroughly winded, returned to his corner with a small trickle of blood oozing from his nose.

As the intermission progressed, Keitaro became increasingly more confused. Kentaro could have dispatched his opponent on several occasions in that first round, yet every time Keitaro thought he would go for the kill, he retracted. Why?

As Kentaro's dominance continued in the second round, the answer at last dawned upon Keitaro. On the surface, it might seem that he was playing to the crowd, giving them a good performance. However, Keitaro realized that Kentaro was showing his opponent through his actions that there was absolutely no way that he could be beaten. The roaring of the crowd had little to nothing to do with anything going on inside the ring.

Keitaro clenched his teeth, watching as the match led to its inevitable conclusion early in the third round, culminating with Kentaro knocking his opponent silly with a flurry of blows, causing the referee to step in and stop the match before there was any permanent damage done. He sat in shock as Kentaro sauntered back to his corner where his corner-men greeted him with cheers and fist pumps. The opposite corner jumped into the ring and dropped to their knees around their fallen pugilist.

As the grainy video went to black and then to static, Keitaro stared blankly at the imageless screen, his heart pounding mightily in his chest, and a very perceptible nervous pain in the pit of his stomach. He began to feel much like he was standing in front of oncoming train running at full bore, with no way to escape the tracks. He was doomed.

"Are you okay, _sempai_?" a timorous voice said.

Keitaro started visibly, causing Shinobu to gasp and flinch. He quickly put on a face. "Sorry, Shinobu-_chan_, what was that you said?"

"I asked if you were alright."

"Sure I am," Keitaro badly lied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," Shinobu began to explain, "you've been sitting there staring at the blank screen for a while now with this deer-in-the-headlights look, and I've called out to you several times now, so…" Shinobu's voice trailed off, and she suddenly looked as if she had said something she should not.

Keitaro glanced off to the side. "I'm a terrible liar aren't I?"

Shinobu stifled a giggle and nodded slightly.

"This fight," Keitaro said, still looking morosely at something on the floor at his feet, "I can't win."

Shinobu looked all around, expecting Naru or Kitsune to have sprouted out of the floor. Keitaro never really talked too much about his feelings around her, at least not without at least one of the other tenants around. She sensed a rare opportunity, and her heart instantly began to race, her mind flooding with ideas inappropriate to her age. Clenching her fist and breathing deeply to control her thoughts, she sat down next to her blood-drawn landlord. "What fight?" she asked with uncharacteristic calm.

Keitaro explained mindlessly, either unaware that he was laying down his burdens on the most fragile of his charges, or simply too overwhelmed to care. "My debut match in two months. He's unbeatable. He's just too strong."

Shinobu's eyes darted around in line with her thoughts. She wondered what she could say. What would Naru say? She would tell him to quit and worry about his studies instead of some stupid boxing match. Kitsune? She would figure out which way to best profit from his ordeal. Motoko? She would tell him to stop being such a wimp. She decided the best approach would be her own. "What makes you say that? Haven't you been working hard? Didn't you do your very best to make it where you are today?"

Keitaro shook his head. "It's not that simple. This guy is a natural talent. It's simply not possible for someone like me to beat him."

Shinobu became upset at Keitaro's words. "You can't keep talking like that!"

Keitaro was startled by Shinobu's sudden outburst. He flinched as she jumped to her feet and glared angrily at him. He was strangely amused by her glowering over him like an angry parent that caught her child with his hand in the cookie jar, but only for a moment. Then he realized that she was being very serious.

"If you keep saying such things, you are going to make them true! If you believe you are going to fail, then you will! If you believe you can win, then you will! Stop saying that you can't win! You will win if you believe you can! I know you will!"

Keitaro was stunned into silence, and before he could mount a response, Shinobu became aware that she had verbally berated him. She raised her hands to her reddening face, covering her mouth. She ran off, mouthing that Keitaro assumed was some attempt at an apology. He sat there an inordinate amount of time, reflecting upon her words.

* * *

"She's right, you know," Haruka said, flopping down on the pillow across from Keitaro with no regard for appearing diffident. "You're totally in the wrong mindset."

In his heart of hearts, Keitaro knew that was what his aunt would tell him. She was always honest with him, regardless of his feelings about whatever matter he confided in her. And she was usually right. This was exactly why he always came to her with his problems. And at times like this, when he would prefer she just tell him what he wanted to hear, he really resented it. "I know," Keitaro mumbled off with a sigh.

"At the same time, it's okay to be scared," Haruka quipped between lighting a cigarette and pulling a long drag from it, leaning her head back to blow the second-hand smoke towards the ceiling.

Keitaro still coughed despite himself. "I really wish you would quit, Haruka-san."

Haruka scoffed, raising an eyebrow towards her nephew. "Quit trying to change the subject. Just admit that you are scared shitless, already."

Keitaro laughed. No point in hiding it. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. If anyone knew that, it would be Haruka. He nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"I'll give you some credit though. Normally you would be freaking out like Shinobu usually does. It looks like the both of you have done a good bit of growing up as of late."

"Really?" Keitaro asked. He had not noticed.

After pulling another drag from her cigarette and dispersing the emissions overhead, Haruka said sagely, "More than anything, I'll bet, you're actually more afraid of winning then losing."

Keitaro frowned. "How do you figure that?"

"Call it fear of the unknown. Don't take this the wrong way, but all you've really known all your life is losing and failure. I mean, how else could you have passed your preliminary exams with flying colors yet fail the entrance exam three times in a row, when it is essentially the same test? You're just getting in the way of yourself; your kinship with failure has gotten in the way of your would-be success. Winning scares you, because it is so different."

Keitaro looked incredulous, but Haruka continued. "Think about it. What are you really afraid of? If you lose, that would be considered normal for you. No one will notice, and your life will go on just as it always has. But if you win, that's an entirely different story. You'll be forced to admit to yourself than you are more than you make yourself out to be. Other peoples' expectations of you will be raised. Everyone will look at you differently."

"But that's exactly what I want!" Keitaro countered. "I want to feel differently about myself. I want Naru, I mean, everyone to look at me like I am a man. I want to be better than my former self!"

Haruka leaned forward to match Keitaro's body posture. "Then quit waffling over little things like your opponent kicking someone's ass! Big deal! You did the same thing to some poor sap just a few weeks ago, didn't you? And if I remember correctly, you were also using full protective gear and heavier gloves, right? Doesn't that make you the stronger one?"

Keitaro knew the situations were different. After all, he beat up an amateur, not a professional with in-ring experience. But it wasn't worth bickering about. They would just argue in an endless circle. In fact, he began to give Haruka the benefit of the doubt. It was true that he was wearing protective gear and heavier gloves when he knocked out his sparring partner in the pro test.

"So what are you going to do?" Haruka asked, turning instantly back to her reserved self. "You can't exactly run away from this one."

"I wasn't planning on it," Keitaro retorted, slightly annoyed that his aunt thought he was even considering it. Then again, his conscious reminded him, he had done it many times in the past. This realization made him even more chagrined, albeit more towards himself than his aunt. "I'm sick and tired of people thinking I don't have what it takes to do anything I want to accomplish." Keitaro shook his head vigorously. "No, that's not it. I'm naïve to think that I can make people feel a certain way about me. The only way I can change other's minds about me is if I change myself. What I mean to say is that I'm sick and tired of believing that I don't have what it takes to accomplish anything. It's up to me, and not anyone else."

A burning desire began to build inside Keitaro's chest. An oddly familiar feeling, one he was sure he felt before, but unable to distinguish where it stemmed from. Haruka was right. He had nothing to gain by being frightened. There was but one thing he could do. He leapt to his feet with surprising quickness, causing Haruka to start. "Thanks for the talk, Haruka-san. I've got to run."

Before Haruka could respond, Keitaro was out of the door and dashing down the stairs into town. She chuckled at how amusing it was to see Keitaro's disposition change so quickly, and she resolved to finish her cigarette before returning to work.

* * *

Naru, clutching a multitude of heavy-looking textbooks to her chest, was walking towards the stairs leading to Hinata-Sou, dreading the very thought of lugging the texts up them, when she noticed Keitaro jump the last 5 stairs to the bottom. He was running towards her. She felt a nervous flutter in her chest, but she ignored it. "Hey, Keitaro, where are you going? We have to study for the practice exam."

Keitaro passed by Naru, and he turned around without stopping, awkwardly jogging backwards. "Go ahead and start without me, Narusegawa. There's something I have to do first. I'll see you tonight!" He waved at her and turned around and ran without looking back.

Naru watched him until he was out of view. That was the first time since she could remember that he didn't make himself look like a complete idiot in front of her. She thought it made him look cool, but seeing him like that made her nervous at the same time. Was the change in his demeanor because he was forgetting about her? Sure, he was keeping up with his studies, and his grades had not slipped in the least, but she could not shake the thought he had begun to forget about the promise they had made, regardless of how many times these thoughts had been dispelled in the past.

"Hey, Naru-chan," Haruka greeted Naru, noticing the young woman walking up the stairs during one of her numerous cigarette breaks. "Did you bump into Keitaro?"

"Ah, Haruka-san! As a matter of fact, yes. And thankfully for once he didn't run me down like he usually does," Naru responded, stopping at the bottom of the staircase leading up towards the teahouse. "Did you two just have a chat, or something?"

Haruka chuckled. "He always comes to me when his problems are too serious to talk to Kitsune about. Why the long face?" Haruka asked, noticing Naru's face falling.

"That guy," Naru said quietly. "Why doesn't he ever come to me with a problem that doesn't involve a textbook and scratch paper? Are we still complete strangers?"

"I doubt it has anything to do with that. I just think he doesn't want to burden you with his problems, when you have your own fair share to deal with. Plus, he has an image to keep around you." Haruka winked as she spoke her last sentence.

Naru was perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know just as well as I, Naru," Haruka said with a slanted grin.

"I don't know how many times I need to tell everyone," Naru growled, "I have nothing to do with him!"

Haruka's grin grew until she was positively beaming. "Now who is the one making it seem like you two kids are complete strangers, huh?"

"I-I didn't mean it like that," Naru stammered defensively.

Haruka tapped the ash away from her cigarette that was smoked nearly to the nub. "Keitaro is crazy about you. He has been for a long time, and he doesn't want to appear weak and depressed around the person he wants to be with." Haruka seemed to gain an almost unnatural pleasure watching the girl in front of her, normally extremely confident and sure of herself, reduced to a red-faced mess. It reminded her of the way Naru once looked when she talked about Seta.

The smile on Haruka's face turned into a frown when she noticed her cigarette had been spent. She dropped the cigarette to the concrete beneath her feet and she stepped on it to extinguish it. "Looks like that's just about all the wisdom I have to share with you two today. I've got to get back to work."

After saying her goodbyes, Naru was left alone to ponder over what Keitaro's aunt said as she finished her climb to the courtyard of Hinata Sou. She had thought Keitaro was avoiding her over something trivial, as per usual. She had not counted on Keitaro being deeper than a puddle.

Naru wished she could bring herself to be more open and honest, especially around Keitaro. She had been emotionally unavailable as long as she could remember, and she resented herself for it. But with the exams right around the proverbial corner, she was extremely wary of such a thing being a fatal distraction for both her and Keitaro.

But, perhaps, after the exams, if the both of them somehow pass and become Tokyo University students, they could take the next step in their relationship. After all, it was not as if she hated him, and the attention he lavished on her warmed her heart tremendously, even if she dared not show it.

Thinking about the attention Keitaro once paid to her brought her thoughts around full circle, and she became frustrated once more about not knowing where Keitaro stood with her. Sure, Haruka and just about everyone she knew told her that Keitaro was madly in love with her, but the unnatural distance between them lately worried her to no end. She resolved to settle the matter that evening during the study session. She would not be able to concentrate otherwise. In the meantime, a nap followed by a lengthy bath in the hot springs would help serve to clear the maelstrom in her head.

* * *

"As it stands right now, there's no way for me to win," Keitaro said in admittance, standing firmly in the center of Coach Kamogawa's office.

Kamogawa, sitting in his chair, swiveled around to face away from Keitaro and stare into the horizon through the window behind his desk. "You're quite astute, Keitaro," Kamogawa replied. "Indeed, there isn't a way for you to win with the skills you have right now. In fact, from what I hear, Sakata's camp has gone so far as to look past you and has already begun preparations for his qualifying match for the Rookie King tournament."

Keitaro gasped audibly. "What? Why?" he asked, feeling a burning rage welling inside him.

Kamogawa wheeled around to face his boxer, who was quickly becoming enraged before him. "It might have something to do with the fact that you don't have any in-ring experience outside of the pro test, and therefore there isn't anything to go on. But I think it's because he's already established and his manager wants him to enter the tournament as a four-and-oh boxer instead of only three-and-oh. The reason why escapes me. They just don't see you as a threat."

The world around Keitaro began to turn red, and he felt on the verge of hyperventilating. He had had enough of this. He was no longer willing to be ignored. He leaned forward, slamming both hands palms down on Kamogawa's desk. "Please teach me what I need to do to win! I won't stand for this! No matter the difference in talent, I refuse to be a stepping-stone for a guy the likes of him!"

"Well said, Keitaro," Kamogawa said with a smile cracking along the left side of his lined face. He stood up and stamped his cane on the floor. "I'll show you what you need to do, but it will by no means guarantee your victory. However, if you follow my instructions to the letter, we'll make him see hell!"

"Yes, sir!" Keitaro exclaimed, bowing low. "Please teach me!"

"We'll begin right now. Are you ready?"

Keitaro nodded. He kept a spare set of workout materials in his locker just for these types of occasions.

"Get changed and gloved up. I want you in the ring in ten minutes, and then we'll get straight to work!"

Keitaro dashed off and changed more quickly than he could remember in recent memory. The excitement built within him. Would he be learning a new punch, or some new footwork to counteract Kentaro's speed? A myriad of ideas ran through his mind as he gloved his hands and stepped back into the workout area.

Keitaro's face fell when he saw Kamogawa in the ring, holding headgear in his hands, flanked by both Takamura and Ippo, who were both also gloved and warming up in the ring. Approaching the ring apprehensively, he realized that this could only end painfully.

"Stop gawking and get your ass in here, Keitaro," Kamogawa ordered, separating the second and third rope and waving Keitaro to enter the ring.

Keitaro wondered for a moment if he would rather get a beat down from Kamogawa than by Takamura, who was no glaring at him with a sinister grin. Ippo, on the other hand, had a sympathetic, worried look in his eyes. Keitaro stepped into what he was sure was his worst nightmare as his feet touched the canvas inside the ropes.

"Your task is survival," Kamogawa stated rather a bit too plainly for Keitaro's liking, and he couldn't help but smirk in response. "Each of these two will spar with you every other round. Takamura will stay on the outside, and I want you to push into his chest and go after his body. Ippo will come after you, and I want you to stay on the outside and use your jab to keep him at bay."

Keitaro was incredulous. "You're asking the impossible! Takamura-san is a world contender! How can I get close enough to him? And Ippo is the top-ranked featherweight in the country! He's the very best in-fighter Japan has to offer! There's no way I can keep him away!"

Kamogawa slammed his cane onto the canvas. "I never said I expected you to be able to do it, did I? This exercise does not hinge on your ability to do it. I believe after a few rounds, the point of this will become readily apparent to you. To your corners!"

As Keitaro danced around in his corner, Takamura taunted him from the opposing side. "I don't think you will, but if you can survive this, I might think a little better of you, Keitaro."

Kamogawa slapped the headgear onto Keitaro's head and stepped out of the ring. "Ring it," he ordered a lackey manning the ringside bell.

At the sound of the bell, Keitaro dashed out of his corner, trying to take Takamura by surprise. But the evil grin never left his opponent's face. He silently prayed he would be knocked out sooner rather than later.

* * *

"Stop already, will you!" a voice squealed, watching as his boxer, beaten bloody, collapsed to the canvas. He jumped into the ring and tended to his fallen fighter.

Sakata Kentaro removed his headgear and shook his head to free his matted hair. "Can't you find anyone that can stand in the ring with me longer than two minutes? This is getting really boring you know," he said to his manager.

"Sorry, Kentaro, but this is the best I could find to match the specifications you requested," the manager replied.

"This is really pathetic, you know. They should just give me the title right now; instead of wasting time with what I'm sure is nothing more than simple semantics."

"You're right, Kentaro," the manager said, "but we've got to keep you sharp somehow. Why else do you think I would have matched someone like you up against some untested fodder like your next opponent before the tournament?"

"This is the last time I fight someone like that, do you understand me? I'm sick and tired of meaningless bouts. Do you think people care about my record? No, they care about titles!"

"But, you've got to earn your shot just like everyone else, Kentaro," his manager explicated, but to no avail.

"It's your job to find match ups that will help me, not hinder me. You had better start doing your job, or I'll find someone else that will do it for me, got it?"

The manager was obliged to concede. After all, Kentaro was a gold mine to whoever had the prospect of being his manager. "Yes, I understand."

"Good," Kentaro sneered. "Your first job is to find me sparring partners that are more than just a bunch of fops with gloves on their hands."

* * *

Naru scribbled vigorously on a piece of used scratch paper before eyeballing her wristwatch for the umpteenth time. "Where the hell is he, damn it?" she asked herself again, also for the umpteenth time.

Keitaro was well past being simply late. This was bordering on being completely AWOL. Naru found she was unable to study without the presence of the clumsy, fumbling Keitaro across from her, which would have amused her if she were not slowly becoming steaming mad. He used to annoy her with repetitive questions to no end, but she had since become accustomed to hearing his voice, and the thunderous silence in her room at the moment left her feeling rather uneasy.

Naru leaned up against the table, resting her head on the palm of her hand, her opposing digits drumming lightly on the wooden tabletop. She felt she was beginning to doze off when the sound to footsteps outside her door snapped her back into rapt attention. "Narusegawa, would you mind letting me in, please?" she heard the voice of Keitaro ask. "Both of my hands are full."

She was going to punch his lights out for making her wait such an inordinate amount of time. Practically frothing at the mouth, Naru stomped to her door and threw it open. Seeing the sight before her instantly changed her state. She began to laugh. When Keitaro frowned, her laughter intensified until she collapsed to her knees, unable to breath, but unable to stop laughing.

The source of Naru's laughter was Keitaro's face, which was puffed up, black and blue, and swollen. "What's so funny?" Keitaro asked, completely in the dark.

Between belly-laughs, Naru responded, "Have you seen yourself?" When Keitaro gave her a puzzled look that made him look even more comical, Naru gestured towards a full-length mirror in the opposite corner of her room.

Keitaro shambled over to the other side of the room, dropping his textbooks onto the kotatsu in the process. He glanced at his reflection and immediately did a double take. "Oh my god," he squealed, poking and prodding at the marks on his face. Naru was still laughing heartily, rolling around and slapping the floor with her hands. He looked like he was stung in the face by a swarm of wasps.

He began to laugh. As discomfited as he felt about Naru seeing him looking like that and continuing to laugh like a hyena behind him, he certainly looked humorous.

"Your head looks like a giant zit ready to pop," Naru said between heaving breaths, beginning to regain her composure. She had forgotten completely about being angry with Keitaro for being so terribly late.

Keitaro snickered. "I was just thinking how I looked like I had been stung by about fifty wasps."

Naru winced. "Yeah, that would have hurt. What actually happened anyway?" Sitting down at the table, Keitaro proceeded to explain the situation. Naru was questioning of such brutal training. "Why the hell are they putting you through the ringer like that?"

Keitaro was surprised Naru was being so thoughtful and responsive. On any other day, she likely would have blown him off and focused on studying, particularly since the examinations were drawing nearer. "Coach wants me to be able to not be fazed by the pressure my opponent will most likely put on me during our match. He wants me to press forward and give it my all, no matter what happens."

Naru suddenly remembered what she wanted to discuss with Keitaro as he spoke. "What about me?" she blurted out the question before she could catch herself.

"What was that?" Keitaro inquired.

"I mean, what about Tokyo University? Are you going to give that your all, no matter what happens?" Naru could feel her heart begin to pound in her ribcage.

"Of course I will!" Keitaro exclaimed. "You of all people should know that."

Naru was unconvinced. She lowered her eyes from Keitaro's face. "You know, I really wonder if that's true anymore."

"What do you mean?" Keitaro queried.

"It's a whole bunch of things," Naru began, unable to look Keitaro in his eyes. "You are more distant than ever. I never see you like I used to. And even when we are together, there's this distance between us that I can't explain. It's like you aren't happy around here anymore. The only thing that seems to make you happy right now is boxing. The way your face lights up when you talk about it. It's like it has completely taken over your life, and I…I…" She could not bring herself to say it. _"I miss you,"_ she wanted to say, but although the words reverberated in her mind, she lacked the courage to speak them.

Keitaro was taken aback. He had no idea anyone in the household felt this way, let alone Naru. He was at an utter loss how he should respond. It was more or less true that he had become much more distant from his tenants. In fact, there were stretches of several days where he would not see hide nor hair of one of the girls, and when he did see her, she would be surprised to see him. In the end, Keitaro decided on his default response. "Sorry," he said, scarcely audible even in the stillness of Naru's room.

"I don't need you to be sorry, Keitaro," Naru said flatly. "I need you to be with me, because I can't do this without you." Naru went agape after she spoke those words. _"Oh my God, I actually said it. I didn't even mean to!"_

Fortunately for Naru, Keitaro was still as dense as a tropical rain forest. "What? You need me?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Naru stammered, reaching around the table for something unseen. _"You stupid girl! Yes you did! Why did you take it back so quickly?"_

"What did you mean, then? And what are you looking for?" Keitaro asked with a genuinely confused look on his face.

Naru was becoming flustered. She silently wished her mind would stop yelling at her for two minutes so she could think straight. She continued to fumble around the table for a few seconds before she grasped her pencil, which was underneath her nose. "There it is," she said, a dumb smile on her face, holding the pencil up for Keitaro to see. _"Calm down, damn it!"_

"Oh, I think I understand now," Keitaro said with sudden recognition, pounding his fist into the palm of his opposing hand. Naru froze in her tracks, believing Keitaro had finally figured it out. "You need me to give you a pop quiz, right?" Keitaro asked merrily, fishing out a deck of flash cards from knapsack as Naru crashed to the floor in a cloud of dust.

"No, that's not it, either," Naru said, tripping over her own words. She reminded herself of what she wanted: openness and honesty. She braced her nerves with a deep, steady, slow breath. "What I mean is that you are either trying to get into Tokyo University with me, or you are not, and I need you to make up your mind about what it is you really want. I can't imagine going on without knowing where you stand and where you are going."

Keitaro's joyous demeanor flipped upside down almost instantly. She wanted him to decide between life as a boxer and a life with her at Tokyo University. Nay, she required him to decide between them. This was nothing short of an ultimatum. As absurd as it might have seemed, he never gave it much thought. He always supposed he would figure out some way to amalgamate both into his lifestyle. But now that he was forced to think about it, he was not so certain.

On one hand, life has a boxer gave him something he never experienced before in his life: a true sense of accomplishment. It was something he did completely on his own, forged from his own blood, sweat, and tears. The thought of Naru stripping that away from him made him angry. How could she ask such a thing from him?

The answer stared him directly in the face; the woman sitting across from him, staring at him with a somber yet hopeful look. It could easily be construed that Naru had just confessed to him. She said herself she needed him to be there for her, and she wanted him to go to Tokyo University with her. It was not exactly an "I love you", but it was certainly in the vicinity.

He had reached another crossroad, but this time both ways lead to happiness, but left the other behind. Pursue old dream, or the new dream. It was not an easy choice to make. "Sorry, Narusegawa, that's not something I can decide on right away."

Naru nodded, feeling a burning sensation welling in her eyes. "Would you mind leaving, please?" She had no idea how long she would be able to hold out, and she did not want Keitaro to see her when she broke down.

Keitaro reached out to touch Naru's hand, but she pulled it away. "It's not that I don't want to be with you, Narusegawa, it's just that…"

Naru cut him off. "I know. Please, just go," her voice cracked. She curled up and hid her face between her knees. Her lower lip quivered, trying desperately to hold in her sobs as she heard Keitaro stand up, pick his books up from the table, move to the door, step through it, and close it behind him. It was then her self-control crumbled, and she broke into a tremendous weep.

Keitaro remained at Naru's door, listening as the woman's heart broke into pieces on the other side of the portal. He longed to throw the door aside, rush over to her, embrace her and tell her everything would be all right. But that would be a lie. He relinquished his hand from the door handle and walked away, feeling like the lowest being on earth.

* * *

The days and weeks rolled by much like the endless stream of clouds blowing over Hinata Onsen from the Pacific. Keitaro had not spoken to Naru since that evening, and though the others knew something was wrong between them, none of them got involved in their affairs. It might have been because Keitaro was training endlessly throughout the days while Naru holed herself in her room to study during the nights.

A week prior to the match, Keitaro was reprieved from his intense training to rest and recover. During dinner several nights prior to the match, Shinobu noted that Keitaro was not eating very much, and he explained that he needed to eat less to maintain his weight. It was rather easy for him to do, since he lacked much of an appetite.

Keitaro sneaked an occasional glance at Naru, and he could tell she was not sleeping very well as of late. Her eyes were red and puffy with dark circles. Whenever she glanced in his direction, he quickly averted his eyes, but he was certain she knew he was looking at her.

This was in fact the case. She stole glances at him when he was not looking just the same. And she could tell he had yet to make a decision one way or the other. She resolved to steer clear of Keitaro until he determined what he wanted to do. She held that this was something he needed to do on his own. Dinnertime was the only exclusion she allowed, since it would seem out of the ordinary if she were never around to eat with the others.

The day of the weigh-in finally arrived, and all except Naru saw Keitaro off. Kamogawa, Yagi, and Shinoda met him in his locker room at Korakuen Hall. "How are you feeling today, Keitaro?" Yagi asked him.

"Hungry," Keitaro replied truthfully. "Otherwise, I feel great. I'm light on my feet and all the soreness from the training is gone."

"How about mentally?" Kamogawa asked. "Do you feel prepared?"

"About as ready as I'm going to get, I think."

"That's good. Now remember, this isn't just some ritual to make sure the fighters have made weight. The fight starts the moment you step into that room. If he glares at you, you glare right back at him. Do not back down. Show him that you will not be intimidated. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Keitaro exclaimed, slapping himself several times in the face to get fired up. "I'm ready."

"Let's do this," Shinoda said sternly, pulling open the door to the adjacent room where the weigh in was to take place.

The first thing that came to Keitaro's mind when he entered the room was the sheer mass of people in the room already. The Coach was right. This was no mere ritual at all. This was serious.

Kamogawa could tell Keitaro was losing focus. "It's just the press. They aren't here for you. Ignore them. There's only one person in the room you should be worried about."

Keitaro's eyes shifted around, looking for his opponent. At last, he found him, just as he was pulling his shirt off, exposing his muscular torso. He had to admit, Kentaro was in tremendous shape. It certainly did not appear he was being overlooked. He heard Kamogawa whisper in his ear, "You don't lose out to him, kid. Don't let it shake you."

Keitaro moved towards the middle of the room through the crush of the media-types. He noticed Fuji standing near the rear of the room, who gave him a wink and a nod. Knowing that he had someone, even if it were just one person, on his side gave him a tremendous boost. He focused back onto Kentaro just as he was stepping onto the scale, the flash of light bulbs illuminating the room.

An official measured the weight. "One-twenty-five even. Kentaro's weight is okay," he said. Kentaro posed for a few seconds on the scale for the cameras, flashing his pearly whites.

Kamogawa slapped his protégé on the back. "It's your turn, kid. Show them what you've got."

Keitaro stole a deep breath before stepping forward, kicking off his sandals, and removing his sweats. Clad in only a pair of shorts left him feeling more than a bit naked in front of such a sizable crowd. An official directed him towards the scale, and he stepped onto it. Only a smattering of flash bulbs went off while he was on the scale, for which he was thankful.

The official carefully measured Keitaro's weight. "One-twenty-four and one-half. Urashima's weight is okay."

As Keitaro stepped off the scale, a member of the crowd yelled out, "Can we get the two opponents to pose together?"

Keitaro looked over at Kamogawa, who gave him a stern nod. Feeling a little dizzy, Keitaro turned around to face his opponent, who was already standing right next to him, glowering malevolently at him. He was taken off guard slightly at his presence, but he held his ground. Kentaro was only slightly taller than he was, perhaps one to two inches. The pressure from his presence was nothing compared to Ippo's or Takamura's. He managed to wrench his face into a scowl and glare back at Kentaro.

"Seeing him like that makes him look pretty funny, but that's a good expression for him," Yagi noted with a smile.

"The training is working," Kamogawa said with a smirk, "He's not intimidated by him in the least."

"Why such a serious face, man?" Kentaro said, breaking out of his glare into a smarmy grin.

"My name is Keitaro Urashima, Sakata-san," Keitaro replied, keeping his focus on Kentaro's eyes. "Remember it."

"Oh, is that so?" Kentaro sneered. "Well, Urashima, I sure hope for your sake you'll be able to remember your name after tomorrow, because I certainly won't after I'm through with you."

Keitaro smirked. "I've got news for you. I'm not going to be just a stepping-stone for you. I'm going to put a blemish on your perfect record and your pretty little face."

Kentaro moved aggressively towards Keitaro, and each corner's seconds were forced to separate the two before things got out of hand.

"I think you got to him, Keitaro-kun," Yagi said, gesturing towards the commotion coming from the other side of the room.

"He really pissed me off," Keitaro noted, looking down at his shaking hands. "I just wanted to punch his lights out right where he stood."

"Save it for tomorrow, kid. For now I want you to get home, eat and get well hydrated, and rest. You can put that anger to good use tomorrow night," Kamogawa ordered Keitaro.

"Alright," Keitaro said, taking his sweats and sandals from Shinoda's hand. The team retreated to their locker room, where Keitaro got dressed and said his goodbyes.

"Be here absolutely no later than 4 pm tomorrow," Shinoda told Keitaro as they stood outside Korakuen.

Keitaro nodded and waved to Shinoda as a taxi pulled up to where he stood.

* * *

"Hey, Keitaro is back," Su chimed from the second story balcony of Hinata Sou, bounding like a gazelle over the railing to the first floor roof, and down to the courtyard.

To Keitaro's complete surprise, Su failed to greet him with a firm kick in the head. The other tenants, sans one, emptied from the building to meet him, including an additional familiar face. "Mutsumi-san!" he exclaimed, greeting the curvaceous brunette with a friendly hug. "It's certainly been a while since I've seen you!"

"Yep! I heard about your match tomorrow and there was no way I was going to miss it," Mutsumi said, clapping her hands excitedly and rocking back and forth on her heels.

"Oh, that reminds me," Keitaro said with excitement, pulling his knapsack around to his front and burying his hand in it. "I've got everyone's tickets!"

Almost instantly, five hands reached out towards him like a group of beggars cajoling money from a rich noble. Just as soon as he was able to pull them out of his bag, the girls snatched them away from him. After everyone had one, he still held two tickets in his hand.

After getting settled before dinner, Keitaro decided to head down to give Haruka her ticket. As usual after closing hours, she was sweeping away the debris from the stairs leading up to her establishment. "Hey, Haruka-san," he called out to her, getting her attention.

"Hi, Keitaro," she replied, setting her broom against the door of the teahouse. "Did everything go okay?" she asked as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Yup, just fine. I'm all set for tomorrow, except for this," Keitaro said, pulling one of the two tickets from his pocket. "A promise is a promise, right?"

Haruka reached out and took the ticket from her nephew, flashing a smile. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem," Keitaro said.

"Tomorrow, huh?" Haruka asked, perusing the ticket in her hand.

"Yeah, it's hard to believe it."

Haruka looked up from the ticket once more. "I guess you'd better hurry and give Naru her ticket, eh?" she said with a sly wink.

Keitaro laughed. "Nothing gets by you, does it, Haruka-san?"

"Nope. Off with you, then," Haruka scooted Keitaro away before placing the ticket in her apron pocket and turning around to retrieve her broom. "Oh, and Keitaro?" Keitaro stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look quizzically at his aunt. "You should know that no matter what happens, we are proud of you; all of us are very proud of you."

Keitaro smiled, a warm feeling building within. "Thanks a lot, Haruka-san. That means a lot to me." Haruka nodded at him and resumed her work.

There was just one more thing for him to do, but he had a feeling giving this final ticket away would be much more difficult than the rest. He trudged up the stairs to the inn, and was about to climb the stairs to the third floor before bumping into Shinobu. "Dinner is about ready, sempai. Why don't you sit down and I'll get Narusegawa-sempai."

Keitaro placed a hand on Shinobu's shoulder. "I'll get her for you. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Shinobu asked, feeling the blood begin to rush to her face at the warmth of his touch. Keitaro nodded, and she relented. "Good luck, then."

"Thanks," Keitaro said with a chortle. "I'll probably need it." Parting ways with the young teen, Keitaro was standing in front of Naru's door before he knew it.

Going into autopilot, he knocked on the door. "Narusegawa, it's Keitaro. I'm coming in." Without waiting for a response, Keitaro softly slid the door open and stepped inside. Naru, sitting at her desk, looked up from the book she was reading and turned around. "Well, at least you announced yourself before coming in. What if I had been changing clothes?" Naru asked.

Keitaro took two steps forward into the room. "I would have gotten hit, I suppose. But I'm not here to try to peep on you."

"What do you want, then?"

Keitaro took yet another step towards Naru. "Firstly, dinner is almost ready, so you should come downstairs to eat soon. Secondly," he paused to retrieve the final ticket, "this is for you."

Naru recognized the ticket immediately. "I can't accept that," she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head.

"But I got one for everybody, so," he explained reaching out to give Naru the ticket, but she would not budge.

"I won't be able to make it, anyway, because I'm going to be too busy studying. So why not give it to someone else, like one of your four-eyed friends?"

"No, Naru," Keitaro said firmly. Naru was caught by surprise, as Keitaro rarely, if ever, used her given name when speaking to her. "I bought this ticket specifically for you, and you have to accept it. I don't care if you use it or not, but would you please just take it?"

Sent into a daze by Keitaro's unusually forward behavior, Naru plucked the ticket out his hand. "It's just going to go to waste, you know," Naru said, placing the ticket onto her desk.

"That's fine by me," Keitaro said, his expression softening. "I just wanted to make sure you had the option." He turned on his heels and left the room, but not before reminding her once more that she should head downstairs to eat.

"I'll be right down," Naru said. When Keitaro pulled her door shut after leaving, she turned around to finish reading the section of her book she was reading when Keitaro interrupted her. After making several passing glances at the ticket lying next to the book, she angrily picked it up, intending to rip it to shreds. After making naught more than a small tear on it, she paused. Sighing heavily, she opened a drawer in the desk and placed the ticket gently into it. "What is wrong with me?" she asked herself, standing up from her desk to head downstairs.

* * *

Dinner that evening was merry and lighthearted, or at least as much as it could have been. The residents knew that their landlord was certainly extremely nervous, although that did nothing to affect his ravenous appetite. This was not lost on Shinobu at all, as she positively beamed when Keitaro asked her for a third portion. Kitsune quipped about how Keitaro could probably make middleweight after eating as much as he did. Su, of course, wondered if middleweights were tasty, and Keitaro laughed at the image of Su trying to take a bite out of Takamura's leg.

After excusing himself from the table, Keitaro retreated to his room. Knowing full well he would not be able to sleep right away, he decided to make himself useful by studying. But the more he tried to focus on this task, the more he thought about Naru's ultimatum.

He abandoned studying after an hour of trying and failing to focus on the words in front of him. He lay on his futon, trying to sleep, but images of Kentaro in the ring throwing punch after punch at him poured into his mind. In the end, he sat wide-awake against the wall, resting his arms against his knees, which were pulled towards his chest. He remained that way until the sunrise began to illuminate the horizon.

Unbeknownst to Keitaro, the resident living directly above him sat in much the same position as he, the thoughts rushing through her own mind during the night giving her no respite. She stared blankly at the ticket in her hand, unable to decide what to do.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: It's Urashima vs. Sakata! A victory for Keitaro would be one of the most stunning upsets Kamogawa Boxing Gym has ever seen. Can he pull it off? Will Naru decide to go to the match or not? What will Keitaro decide to do after his match? All of these questions will be answered next time on Hajime no Keitaro!

Author's Note: Whew! You know what they say: better late than never. Thanks to everyone for being so patient with me. Hope you enjoy this installment and look forward to the next!


	15. Approach The Ring

Hajime no Keitaro: Approach the Ring

Despite a night of fruitless rest, Keitaro was alert and full of energy the morning of his debut match against Kentaro. He was fully dressed and well groomed well before Su, aboard her latest version of Mecha Tama, stomped down the hallway of the second floor, announcing that breakfast was now being served.

After making certain Su was out of earshot, Keitaro leapt to his feet and bounded to his door, sliding it open a crack to poke his head out. He glanced cautiously to the left and right. Feeling like he was in the clear, he opened his door the remainder of the way and stepped out. Unfortunately for him, he failed to notice the small, disc-shaped device with flashing lights blinking all around it, and a steel plunger sticking straight up out of it on the floor directly underneath him.

It was far too late for Keitaro to react after his foot depressed the plunger on the device. A deafening alarm blared from the speaker integrated into the device, and the lights flared to life, drowning the area around the hallway outside of Keitaro's room with blinding luminosity. He instinctively snapped his eyes shut and covered his ears to protect his senses, but this was all nothing more than a smoke screen for the genuine assault.

The Mecha Tama with Su still on board charged around the corner from whence it came no more than two minutes prior. Su leapt off of the back of the gigantic robotic turtle, laughing maniacally. "Keitaro falls for the simplest of tricks!" She depressed a button on the shell of the robot, and one of the shell's scales fell open, revealing a hidden container within the metal beast. Su pulled a remote control device from within the container, a feral glint in her eyes.

"Now, Mecha Tama Version three-point-five, let's show Keitaro what you are made of!" Su was about to press the large red button on Mecha Tama's remote control when a hand firmly grasped at her wrist.

"Su-chan, today is not the day for these experiments," Naru bellowed, barely audible over the din emanating from Su's mine trap. "Could you please turn that thing off?" With that, she released Su, who complied by pressing a diminutive button on the remote, which disengaged the mine.

The light and sound vanished almost at once, but Keitaro was still dazed as if he were the victim of an exploding flash grenade. He stumbled about back and forth, shaking the cobwebs from his head, blinking away the tears from his eyes. "What the hell was that?" Keitaro asked, his voice amusingly loud as his hearing had yet to recover.

"Sorry about that, Keitaro. I forgot about today," Su apologized with a toothy grin.

"What? I can't hear you," Keitaro said, still highly disoriented.

"I guess the experiment was a success after all," Su said, retrieving a Pocket PC from her backpack to type some notes.

"Thanks, Narusegawa. You saved me," Keitaro said, before tripping over his own foot, causing him to stumble forward. He reached out with his hands to catch himself, and he latched onto something soft. As if on perfect cue, his vision cleared at that exact moment, and his eyes bugged out of his head as he realized he had grabbed a handful of Naru's breasts to keep from planting on his face.

Keitaro released his grip and begged off, but he knew all too well what he was in for, and it was meaningless to try to stop it. "Damn you, Keitaro!" Naru roared, her face flushed deep crimson. She reared back with her right fist and fired a perfectly executed right straight to Keitaro's cheek, sending him rocketing through the hallway and through the closed window in a trail of smoke.

Su giggled madly as Naru slowly regained her composure. "Weren't you the one who said today wasn't the day for this kind of thing, Naru?"

Naru gasped then grimaced. "Sorry, it was a reflex."

Su simply smiled at Naru. "It's okay. It just wouldn't be a normal day around here without this happening."

"I suppose that's true, Su-chan," Naru posited. "However, things haven't been normal around here for a good while now."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Naru. Change is good, isn't it?"

Naru shook her head. "I don't mean to say it's a bad thing. I just don't know anymore." Naru glanced down at Su, who stared back at her with her perpetual beaming smile. Naru rubbed the top of the young teen's head, ruffling up her hair. "I wish I was as carefree as you, sometimes."

Breakfast was surprisingly lighthearted, at least as far as Naru was concerned. Keitaro returned from his unscheduled flight in near record time, offered his usual apology to her, and the two of them joined the group at the dining room table. There was jovial chitchat about the fist-shaped mark on Keitaro's left cheek, with Kitsune giving the dramatic reenactment for all to see.

After that, Haruka and Mutsumi walked into the room together, and the table suddenly became much more cramped than it had been in recent memory. Mutsumi insisted on sitting next to Keitaro, and as he stole a glance at Naru to see her reaction, he breathed a sigh of relief, as she seemed to pay no mind.

Soon enough, the conversation at the table turned to the day's big event, with Mutsumi asking Keitaro how he was feeling. A sudden pressure filled the room as everyone's attention immediately turned to the lone male, waiting with seemingly baited breath for his response. They had each agreed to not mutter a peep about Keitaro's match, not wanting to put undue pressure on him so early in the day. But no one had informed Mutsumi of this. Naru smirked as she recognized that it most likely would not have mattered if she knew of the agreement or not. Mutsumi was the type to move to the beat of her own drum and no others.

"Oh, I'm feeling great," Keitaro replied, naive to the collective sigh from the women seated around him. "This miso is really great, Shinobu-chan. I just can't get enough of it."

Shinobu beamed. "Would you like some more, then?" she asked excitedly. Keitaro nodded his head, and Shinobu rose from her chair and skipped off to the kitchen.

Now that the girls knew it was safe to broach the subject, a blizzard of questions rained upon Keitaro. "You don't want to eat too much today, do you?" Kitsune asked.

Keitaro shook his head as he chewed and swallowed. "I'm done with my weight management obviously, so it's safe for me to eat as much as I want. And it's been far too long since I've been able to eat a full meal. So I'm gonna stuff my face!" Keitaro smiled, slurped up another mouthful of noodles, and winked at Kitsune, who chuckled in response.

"What time do you need to leave?" Haruka asked.

"Well, I'm in the opening match on the card, so I'll need to be there around five or so. So about three-thirty I guess?"

"You seem unnaturally calm, Urashima," Motoko noted. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Keitaro shrugged. "Maybe it hasn't hit me yet, I don't know. I guess I just know that I've done everything I can to prepare for this, so come what may."

"What were you thinking of doing after the match?" Naru posed.

Keitaro swallowed another mouthful of his food as Shinobu returned from the kitchen with another serving of miso for him. "Well, I was thinking about hitting a bar and getting rightly pissed."

At this, Kitsune hooted and hollered. "I'm game!" she exclaimed, and she and Keitaro shared a high-five from opposite sides of the table.

Naru shook her head in exasperation. "No, I mean after-after."

Silence befell the table as the weight of Naru's question was realized. "Sorry, Narusegawa," Keitaro apologized sullenly, "I still haven't made up my mind yet."

Naru lowered her eyes to her plate. "I see," she replied, poking around her rice with her chopsticks. She had not intended on being a buzz-kill, but the remainder of the meal was spent mostly in silence regardless.

* * *

In the early afternoon, Keitaro paced about his room, set about packing the items he required for the day's work: a change of street clothes, a pair of tube socks, his boxing boots, and his match trunks. He laid out each of these items and pointed at them individually, wracking his brain for any indication there was something he was forgetting.

"So that's it, eh?" asked a familiar Kansai-accented voice.

Keitaro turned his head and saw Kitsune leaning against his doorjamb with her arms folded across her chest. He suddenly remembered he had forgotten to close his door. "How long have you been standing there, Kitsune-san?"

"Not long," was the fox's ambiguous reply. She sauntered over to Keitaro's meticulously placed items as he moved to the opposite side of his room to retrieve his gym bag. She picked up his silken boxing trunks, which were solid silver with blue trim along the waistband, the hem on each side, and along the end of each leg. Sewn onto the waistband on the front of the trunks was a solid black patch with Keitaro's Romanized family name written in flawless cursive with gold thread.

Keitaro noticed Kitsune's awestruck face when he returned with his newly emptied gym bag. "Pretty cool, huh? Ippo's mom made that patch. She's gotten pretty good at it, having worked on all of her son's trunks."

Kitsune nodded smugly as she placed the trunks back where she found them. "I've gotta admit, I'm pretty impressed, Keitaro. Naru's legs are gonna turn to jelly when she sees you in that." She nearly added that she would likely do the same, but she decided to keep that little tidbit to herself.

Keitaro shook his head as he gently folded his trunks and placed them gingerly into his bag. "As much as you would like me to believe that, it doesn't even matter. She isn't going to see me in these anytime soon…if ever."

Kitsune shifted her weight as her arms crossed to her shoulders once again. "What are you talking about? Didn't you give her the ticket?" she demanded.

Keitaro stopped what he was doing to focus his attention on the woman standing across from him. "Of course I did. Even though she didn't want it. I had to force it on her." Throwing his arms up in the air in defeat, Keitaro resumed his work. "I can say with a pretty good amount of certainty that ticket will not be used."

Kitsune let out a hearty chuckle as she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling while shaking her head. That certainly did sound like Naru. "Care to share what she meant with that question she asked you at the table this morning?"

"I figured she would have shared that with you, of all people, Kitsune-san," Keitaro said, zipping closed his bulging bag.

Kitsune laughed. "You should know better than that! I may be her best friend, but getting that girl to open up about anything is like pulling teeth!"

Keitaro smiled wryly. She had him there. However, he lacked the penchant to get into the nitty-gritty details. "Sorry, Kitsune. I just don't have the time to get into it with you. Maybe you can try to talk some sense to her."

Kitsune nodded her head. "That's what I'm here for, right?"

Keitaro suddenly felt like he had just packed for a guilt trip. "I'm really sorry for putting this on you, Kitsune-san. I'll make it up to you sometime."

Kitsune waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Keitaro. This one is on me." After saying goodbye, Kitsune left Keitaro to his own devices. She could tell by the look on his face that he had enough on his already taxed mind today without his relationship problems. As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, she promised herself that when she at last managed to make Naru and Keitaro a couple, she would reward herself with an extended vacation.

* * *

Keitaro stepped carefully down the stairs to the foyer, unwilling to let anything to chance, should he do something to hurt himself mere hours before his match. The all-female party awaiting his arrival was two heads short by Keitaro's count. This did not surprise him, as by the time he finished his preparations in his room, he could hear the distinct voices of Kitsune and Naru through the ceiling in his room. The thought of the two getting into an increasingly heated argument made him even more nervous, if that were even possible.

"About that time, eh?" Haruka asked.

"Haruka-san, did you close early today?" Keitaro asked in response, seeing that his aunt's apron was noticeably absent.

"I sure did," Haruka responded with a grin. Keitaro smiled back in thanks for her support.

"Good luck, Keitaro," Su chirped cheerfully, holding up a banner that read, "do your best", in sloppy kanji.

"Great job on that banner, Su-chan," Keitaro said. "You actually managed to make one that didn't say 'sorry about your loss' or something like that."

"Only because Shinobu was there to supervise," Motoko chimed.

Su sported a toothy grin, looking much like a small child trying to use her charming looks to deflect punishment for being naughty.

Keitaro laughed softly. "Thanks for your help, Shinobu-chan." Keitaro patted the girl on the head, and she nodded her acknowledgement.

As Keitaro made for the front door, Mutsumi stepped forward from the group. "Urashima-san?"

Keitaro, already seated and tying his shoes, craned his head around to look back and up at the woman standing behind him. "What is it, Mutsumi-san?"

"Um," Mutsumi stammered, staring down at her feet. Keitaro hastily finished what he was doing and rose to his feet, turning around to peer at the longhaired brunette.

"Is something wrong?" Keitaro asked.

Mutsumi lifted her head. "You're going to win, right?" she asked softly.

Keitaro gazed up and to the right for a moment. He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But I'm going to try my best. Maybe that will be enough."

For possibly the very first time, Keitaro saw Mutsumi frown. The image made him flinch. "You shouldn't say that," Mutsumi said with uncharacteristic force. Her usual lightheartedness at the moment seemed a distant memory.

"What?" Keitaro asked, taken aback.

"At a time like this, you should get this grim look on your face and say something cool, like, 'I'll definitely win'," Mutsumi said, looking like she was about to punch him square in the face.

Keitaro took a half step backwards instinctively. He tried to laugh, but a squeak emerged from his vocal chords instead.

Su chortled. "Keitaro couldn't do something that cool if he tried." Shinobu elbowed her friend stiffly in the ribs, but she said nothing to protest. It was hard to argue against fact.

Keitaro nodded in agreement before turning his attention back onto Mutsumi. She still wore a comically intense expression, and she was gesturing for Keitaro to try it. "Alright, alright," he muttered inwardly, shaking out his arms and legs, closing his eyes, and hanging his head to focus.

After taking a few steadying breaths, Keitaro opened his eyes and lifted his head slowly, until his eyes met Mutsumi's. Her grim expression melted instantly to one of surprise. She had never seen Keitaro appear so resolute. The chattering between the females behind her fell into silence. All stared at Keitaro, in awe of the look he now wore.

"I won't lose, Mutsumi-san," Keitaro intoned, his voice even and unwavering. "I'll definitely win this fight." Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he turned on the spot and walked out of the building. Closing the door behind him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before dashing across the veranda and bounded down the stairs.

Back inside, if Keitaro had paused to listen, he may have heard the thump of several hearts pounding within their owner's chests. "H-h-he might win after all," Motoko admitted. The women around her nodded their approval of the swordswoman's speculation.

"Otohime-san? Are you okay?" Shinobu asked. The woman had continued to stare at the closed portal before her, even though Keitaro had long since made his departure. Tilting to the right and left, Mutsumi fell flat onto her back, obviously unconscious. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and she wore a stupid grin on her face.

Motoko and Shinobu were at either side of the fallen woman in an instant. "Otohime-san, snap out of it!" Motoko exclaimed as she lightly slapped the unconscious woman on one cheek and then the other. Shinobu shook Mutsumi's shoulders, but she remained as limp as a dead fish.

After a few moments of tugging and prodding from Shinobu and Motoko, Mutsumi's eyes fluttered back into place. She sat up on her own power to the amazement of the two girls aside her. She positively beamed and said, "Urashima-san was so cool just then." Noticing her current position, she asked, "When did I end up on the floor?"

* * *

Meanwhile…

"I just don't get you at all," Kitsune said, shaking her head. "After all these years, I've not once seen you act like this."

Naru, continuing to flip through her notebook without giving her best friend her undivided attention, replied, "I don't know how many times I need to tell you. I will not endorse or condone what he is doing. It's just not right, and he's going to get himself hurt. And I absolutely refuse to be there when it happens."

"So you're just gonna let your ticket go to waste, even though he paid for it out of his own pocket?" Kitsune asked, deciding to sit down at long last next to her friend. She was afraid this was going to be a long discussion, and it turned out perhaps even worse than she expected. They had been at it for thirty minutes already, and Naru was showing zero signs of budging.

"Like I said before, for the hundredth time now, I never asked him to buy me a ticket," Naru responded, pausing between pages to finish her stern rejoinder. When finished, she completed the page turn and began to write on the next blank page.

"It doesn't matter if you asked or not."

"Or course it does! I never said I was okay with it!"

"Does he need your permission?"

Naru released her grip on her pencil and raised her head to glare at Kitsune. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Finally losing your grip on his leash, aren't ya?" Kitsune asked with a hint of venom.

Naru resumed her work. "I don't have time to get into this with you. I've got important matters to attend to here."

Kitsune mentally snapped her fingers. Her gambit of reverse psychology had been neutralized before it could begin. She stood and approached the window overlooking the courtyard of the property to regroup her thoughts. The sound of pencil scribbling on paper and the ticking of a clock on a nightstand in the corner of the room were the only sounds permeating the room for a few minutes.

Kitsune was surprised to see Keitaro appear from the ground floor entrance below, and she watched as he ran across the stone walkway and down the stairs. It was already that time, and she had made so little progress in convincing Naru to come to the match. Even from behind, Kitsune thought he looked positively happy for perhaps the first time since she knew him. And that is when the idea struck her. "What would he do?"

"Say what?" Naru asked.

Kitsune whirled around to face her friend. "If the situation was reversed, what would Keitaro do?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Put yourself in his place, Naru, and him in yours. What do you think he would do?"

"What difference does that make?"

"I just want to know what you think he would say or do. Is that too much to ask from you?"

Naru placed her pencil in the spine of the opened notebook. She continued to stare at it as she said, "He would tell me to do whatever it was that I wanted, and do my best, and support me."

Kitsune strode over to the table and sat down on top of it, purposely encroaching on Naru's personal space. "So you're saying he would go, right? He would follow you anywhere, wouldn't he?"

Naru nodded wordlessly.

"Why?"

"Because he's a better person than I am."

Kitsune was surprised by that answer. "That's not-"

"Yes, it is true," Naru interrupted with a vigorous shake of her head. She stood up and began pacing the room. "I know I'm being really selfish about all of this. But I also know that if he's going somewhere that I'm not, I just can't put on a smile like he can and just wish him well. I can't be emotionally attached to someone that's going in the opposite direction as me."

Watching Naru become so suddenly restless, Kitsune realized that her friend had been bottling this revelation up for quite some time, but was eager to explain herself. "Why have you never just come out and said all this?" she asked.

Naru spun around on her heels to face Kitsune. "We're so close to the exams now, speaking my mind about anything to anyone at this point would be nothing more than a meaningless distraction."

Kitsune motioned with her arms around the room. "You call this not being distracted; or meaningless, for that matter? This is a big deal. This is the kind of thing that makes or breaks relationships. Trust me, I know."

Naru closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I understand that."

Kitsune slowly shook her head. "No, I don't believe that you do. You're even lying to yourself about all of this."

"What are you talking about?" Naru asked, befuddled.

"This has nothing to do with being distracted. You're just scared."

"Scared? What do I have to be afraid of?" Naru asked defensively.

"You're afraid of losing him," Kitsune flatly replied.

Naru took a breath to protest, but Kitsune's revelation harbored more power than she realized. She suddenly felt constricted, and the air left her lungs despite herself. Feeling incredibly lightheaded, Naru quickly sat to steady herself. Luckily, her desk chair was there to break her fall.

"And to be perfectly honest, you aren't the only one, Naru," Kitsune admitted, smiling weakly at her friend.

Naru looked at her friend, no touch of malice crossing her face. She tried to smile back, but her lips simply would not curl under the weight of her fears. "I guess I don't blame you. I couldn't blame anyone that loved him for that matter."

"It's not easy though, is it?" Kitsune asked.

Naru shook her head in the negative. "I wish it were. It would make things so much simpler."

"But if it were easy, would it be worth it? If you had nothing to lose, what would be the point? I mean, it's not like you're a walk in the park, Naru. I think that's what makes you two so stupidly perfect for each other. If the two most difficult-to-love people somehow fell in love with each other…that has to be something worth fighting for. Why else would I be wasting my time on you two?"

"What should I do?" Naru asked.

"Do for him what you know he would do for you," Kitsune replied, offering Naru's ticket to her.

* * *

As Keitaro approached Korakuen Hall, there was quite the hubbub surrounding the building, as the event grew closer by the second. There was already a significant line stretching around the side of the building, and the event was yet to start for several hours. He thanked his lucky stars that there was a separate entrance for the fighters.

As he walked towards the side entrance, he heard a familiar voice call his name. "Urashima-senshu, hold on there just a minute!" Keitaro stopped and turned around to see a disheveled looking man with a mustache running towards him. He recognized the man immediately as the writer from Boxing Fan magazine, Minoru Fuji.

"Ah, hello there Fuji-san," Keitaro greeted the man as he drew close. "What brings you here?"

Fuji looked stunned. "You're kidding me, right?"

Keitaro remembered where he was and felt more than just a touch embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, I suppose you of all people would be here tonight."

Fuji shook his head and chuckled as he produced a pencil and a small notebook. "Got the time for a couple of quick questions? After all, I did promise you I'd get an interview when you debuted."

Keitaro was apprehensive, but nodded his head. He dropped his bag to lighten his load as Fuji scribbled furiously on his pad. "Firstly, how are you feeling tonight, Urashima-senshu?"

"Well, I guess I'm a bit nervous," Keitaro said with a chuckle that Fuji reciprocated with a nod.

"That kind of goes without saying, am I right?" Fuji asked.

"I guess so. Other than that, I think I'm in peak condition and ready for a well-fought match."

"How do you feel about your chances against an opponent that most critics believe is the next world-class hope for Japan in the featherweight division?" Fuji continued, still hastily jotting notes down on his notepad.

Keitaro sighed. "To be honest, I didn't know that was the case, and I'm certain my sempai would have something to say about that."

"Off the record," Fuji said, glancing to the right and left, "I completely agree with you. This guy wouldn't stand a chance in hell against Makunouchi-kun's fists." Fuji cleared his throat. "But how do you feel about your own chances?"

Keitaro shrugged. "I believe that if I am able to execute the way I've been taught, anything is possible. No one is unbeatable. Otherwise, there would be many more world champions that retired with perfect records."

Fuji wore a wide grin as he iterated his next question. "So you are predicting a massive upset?"

"Oh, no," Keitaro replied instantly, shaking his head. "But I plan on being a little bit more than a tune-up match for Kentaro-san."

"Gotcha," Fuji said, finishing his notes with a dramatic flourish. He placed his pencil back to its perch behind his ear. "That'll be all I need, Keitaro. Thanks for your time, and best of luck to you."

"Thanks," Keitaro replied. The two shook hands before parting. Keitaro turned and reached out to open the door, but it swung open on its own accord. He yanked his hand away from the door before they slammed together.

"It's about damned time you decided to show up," Kamogawa barked angrily from the opposite side of the portal. He gestured menacingly with his cane. "Now get your ass in here before I tan it!"

Keitaro hurried through the door, and his bag, flaying wildly behind him, smacked Kamogawa squarely in the face. Keitaro apologized sheepishly, but his demeanor turned to fear when he saw Kamogawa's face begin to flush with blood.

"I'll…kill you!" Kamogawa roared, chasing after his charge, who had turned tail and fled down one of the many hallways lining the rear of the building.

* * *

Some time later…

Keitaro held his hand out as still as possible, nervously glancing from side to side as an official watched intently as Kamogawa applied tape to it. "Make a fist," Kamogawa ordered, and Keitaro did so. "Too tight?" Keitaro shook his head.

Kamogawa nodded in approval and wrapped the tape around Keitaro's wrist a few more times before ripping the end off with his teeth.

"Very well," the official said, scribbling a few quick notes on his board. "You may glove your boxer now."

Kamogawa slipped Keitaro's right hand glove on, tugging it tight against his half-clenched fist. He expertly wrapped the end with another roll of tape in no time at all. "Good?" Kamogawa asked. Keitaro shook his right hand a few times, getting a feel for the eight-ounce glove. He nodded.

Keitaro's left hand was gloved equally as fast. "I'll return when it's time to enter the arena," the official said. "Good luck," he said to Keitaro before slipping out of the room.

As Keitaro warmed up by hitting mitts with Kamogawa, he began to wonder where his gym-mates were, and if they were going to wish him luck before his match. His mind began to wander as time progressed: Hinata Sou, Toudai, Naru.

Kamogawa, sensing his charge losing his focus, lashed out with one of his mitts, smacking Keitaro squarely in the face. "Where's your head at?" he roared. "If you aren't focused completely on your match today, your opponent is going to knock it clean off your shoulders!"

"Sorry, coach," Keitaro said.

"Don't be sorry, just hit where I tell you to hit."

* * *

"I can't believe I let myself get talked into coming back here," Naru said flatly.

"Oh, this isn't that bad," Kitsune said with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, it really is that bad," Motoko said.

"It's going to be worth it though, I just know it," Mutsumi replied with feigned cheerfulness.

"It had better be," Naru said, gazing at the ever-lengthening line stretching around Korakuen Hall.

"This is worse than Disneyland," Su noted.

"Well, the sooner we get in line, the sooner we get inside," Shinobu said, dragging Su through the throng of people towards the end of the line.

"Keitaro is going to have kittens when he sees all these people inside," Kitsune said, pulling Naru's nigh-lifeless body along.

"It will be a miracle if he doesn't bolt for the exits," Motoko alleged.

To her own surprise, Naru hoped for Keitaro's sake that they were wrong.

* * *

"Alright, that's enough," Kamogawa said after having Keitaro throw a five-punch combination. "Now your job is to stay loose, so try to relax a bit now."

"Roger that," Keitaro said. He paced around to room a few times, throwing random punches to keep his shoulders warmed up.

There was a knock at the door and a head full of disheveled hair poked through the opening. "Is it safe now?" Ippo asked.

"You can come in now," Kamogawa said as he sat in a chair, collecting his thoughts.

Keitaro beamed as the door swung open and Ippo, Aoki, Kimura, and Takamura entered. "You all came!"

"Of course we did," Aoki said.

"We take care of our kouhai," Kimura winked.

"Are you loose?" Ippo asked Keitaro.

Keitaro nodded apprehensively. Honestly, his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. He felt every thump of the organ against his ribs.

"Of course he's nervous. Who other than me wasn't nervous during their debut?" Takamura said with a toothy grin.

"Don't believe his lies," Kamogawa said. "He was shaking like a leaf in the dressing room all night."

"You shut your hole, old man, before I break your hip!" Takamura roared.

Aoki and Kimura shared a quick glance at each other before Takamura grabbed both of their heads and slammed them together. "One word and I'll put you both in a shallow grave…"

After a few more minutes of light conversation, the door swung open again, revealing the official watching Keitaro being gloved. "Urashima-senshu, please proceed to the ring!"

Keitaro took a deep breath. "I guess this is it."

Keitaro's friends smiled at him and Kamogawa placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let's go, kid!"

The four other boxers all raised a fist toward Keitaro.

"Make him holler," Aoki said. Keitaro tapped his fist against Aoki's.

"Leave it all out there," Kimura followed. **TAP**

"Try not to die out there," Takamura said with a wink before slamming Keitaro's glove hard with his fist, knocking him off balance.

"Give it your best," Ippo said.

"No regrets," Keitaro replied. **TAP**

* * *

"Here's our row here," Haruka said, pointing towards a group of empty seats near the middle of the audience.

The women shuffled through the crowd, finding their homes at last. "Man, they got us packed in here like sardines," Naru noted.

"With this undercard, it's understandable," Kitsune said.

"Why are these four seats next to us empty then?" Su asked.

"Whoever they belong to must not be here yet," Shinobu replied.

Motoko sat back in awe of the spectacle before her. She had never been around this many people before, and the idea left her more than a little uncomfortable, yet strangely excited at the same time.

As Aoki led the way towards the Kamogawa Gym's seats in the crowd to watch Keitaro's match, he paused when he saw the people sitting next to them. "You guys are…" he stammered.

"What's the hold-up, Aoki?" Takamura grumbled before his eyes met what Aoki's had.

"It's the Hinata Sou harem!" Kimura exclaimed.

Ippo stepped forward, blissfully unaware of his fellow boxers' apprehension. "You all came! Keitaro should be so happy to see you all here!"

"Ippo-kun!" Mutsumi exclaimed, jumping up and giving the featherweight a friendly hug.

"He's completely fearless, isn't he? If it weren't for Kumi-chan, I would have sworn that Ippo was gay," Aoki noted. Takamura and Kimura nodded along stupidly.

"Are the others here too?" Mutsumi asked Ippo.

"Of course they are," Ippo moved to the side, revealing his three friends standing there like a pack of teenaged boys sitting on the sidelines during a school dance.

"Well, come sit down with us," Haruka said, having the others over.

In the end, after the seat shuffling was completed, Kitsune sat next to Takamura, Kimura with Motoko, Aoki next to Haruka, and Ippo had Shinobu and Su to his left, and Mutsumi and Naru to his right.

The group exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before the ring announcer and referee stepped into the ring. "It's gonna start now," Ippo said, and the group watched for Keitaro's entrance.

* * *

As he skip-stepped through the hallway, the murmur of the crowd grew louder in Keitaro's ears. As he and his entourage turned the final corner leading to the arena, the noise of the crowd became strangely hushed. The eerie silence sent a chill down Keitaro's spine.

"The announcer must have entered the ring. It's time, Keitaro," Yagi said, placing a reassuring hand on his boxer's shoulder.

Keitaro stopped bounding to and fro, planting his legs firmly on the ground. He let his arms fall to his sides, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply through his nose. He held his breath a moment, letting the pressure in his lungs fill his body with oxygen before allowing the air to escape through his mouth. Opening his eyes, he slammed his fists together, the sound of his gloves echoing through the hallway. He was ready.

As Keitaro entered the arena flanked by his corner men, the crowd came to life, drowning him in cheers. At least, he thought they were loud. Through the din, he could make out some hecklers' comments:

"Good luck there, kid!"

"You're a dead man!"

"You don't stand a chance!"

"Just ignore them and focus on what you need to do," Kamogawa yelled, prodding Keitaro forward with his cane.

Keitaro nodded, jogging forward the last few steps to the ring apron. Kamogawa and Yagi climbed the stairs before him, and Keitaro followed after stepping onto the boot tape, cleaning the debris off the bottom of his footwear. Kamogawa held the ropes apart for him, and Keitaro stepped into the ring, the crowd giving him generous applause.

After greeting the referee and the ring announcer, Keitaro bounced around the ring a few times, getting a feel for it. He tried to put everything else out of his mind, including those who may or may not be in the stands watching him.

* * *

"Well, he appears relaxed enough," Aoki said, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

"He's got to be feeling the pressure, though," Takamura replied, looking on with his arms crossed.

"I agree," Kimura said, nodding his head. "This is the kind of atmosphere one would expect from a national ranking match, not from a four-rounder."

"Keitaro-san trained his heart out for this moment," Ippo said, grasping his hands. "I believe that will carry him to victory."

The women surrounding the four boxers had none the slightest idea what to expect. They could only watch over the happenings in the ring grimly.

* * *

As Keitaro returned to his corner for final instructions from Kamogawa, the lights in the arena suddenly went dark save for a spotlight shining on the opposite entrance to the arena. The crowd exploded into a raucous cheer as Keitaro's opponent, Kentaro Sakata, stepped into the light.

The din in the arena was deafening, but the only sound Keitaro could hear was the pounding of his heart in his chest. This was really it. This was the moment. He shut his eyes against the glare of the spotlight slowly approaching the ring. He didn't want to look.

His mind began to protest against him. He felt compelled to bolt from the ring before he met his fate. There was no way he could win. He was an underdog among underdogs. Soon, his body began to turn against him. His knees buckled underneath him, the overwhelming sheer fear in his heart the only thing keeping him rooted in place. He placed his gloves on the top rope on each side of his corner, trying to steady himself.

The shaking of the ropes and canvas told Keitaro that Kentaro had entered this ring, but he still could not turn and face him, even as the lights slowly returned to life in the arena. He remained shackled to his corner, gasping for air that seemingly would not come.

"Why am I here?" he asked himself. His mind answered: To be a new man. To look forward. To find strength within himself he never knew existed. To face his fears.

As he focused on his goals, the blinding fear inside him gave way to a burning desire that he felt consume him. This was no longer about giving his all, and whatever happened, happened. He wanted to win. To taste the sweetness of victory and revel in all of its spoils. To laugh squarely in the face of those who doubted him. That is why he was here.

Keitaro stood upright, releasing the corner ropes. He quickly turned around to face his opponent, who was dancing around in his own corner, giving Keitaro a silly little wink.

* * *

The ring announcer, with microphone in hand, pointed towards the timekeeper, who rang the bell several times. "Ladies and gentleman," he spoke into the microphone. The crowd roared to life once more, forcing the announcer to pause.

"These people sure are excited," Su yelled to Shinobu, who needed to lean towards her to hear what she said, despite the fact they were right next to each other. Shinobu nodded at Su.

The announcer continued. "Welcome to Korakuen Hall, Tokyo's home for championship boxing! We will start off tonight's card with a featherweight bout scheduled for four rounds. Introducing first, in the blue corner, wearing silver trunks with blue trim, weighing in at one hundred twenty-four and one-half pounds, who is tonight making his professional debut. Fighting out of Hinata Onsen, introducing Keitaro Urashima!"

Keitaro stepped forward meekly, addressing the crowd's warm applause. The cheering was much louder in one section in particular, but he could not see who was there. The floodlights in the ring blinded him to everyone outside of the fifth row of the arena. Keitaro bowed politely to his right and left.

"And his opponent, in the red corner, wearing black trunks with gold trim, weighing in at an even one hundred twenty-five pounds, with an unbeaten record of three wins and zero defeats, with all of his wins coming by way of knockout. He is hailed as Japan's newest hope in the featherweight division, seeded first in this year's Rookie King Tournament. Fighting out of the great city of Tokyo, I give you, Kentaro Sakata!"

The crowd exploded into a deafening roar as Kentaro stepped forward with both fists lifted high above his head. He blew kisses into the crowd, which sent the female establishment into a frenzy, complete with catcalls and professions of love.

"What's so great about this guy?" Motoko asked.

"Beats the hell out of me!" Haruka exclaimed.

"He's suave, and a proven winner. Fodder for the gold-diggers," Kitsune yelled across the aisle towards her friends.

"Then I suppose he's right up your alley," Naru screamed back.

Kitsune copped a glance at Takamura, who was listening to the conversation intently, trying to look nonchalant in the process. Kitsune saw right through him. "No, not really," Kitsune said, giving Takamura a little wink. She had a much bigger fish already ensnared in her net.

"The in-ring referee, Shimakawa, will now give the two combatants his instructions," the announcer said before leaving the ring.

* * *

Shimakawa approached mid-ring and motioned for Keitaro and Kentaro to step forward. "Let's go, Keitaro," Yagi said. "Don't back down from him."

"I don't intend to," Keitaro answered back as he stepped forward. He put on his most menacing glare as he approached. Keitaro was already familiar with Shimakawa's rules after having seen a few of his matches on video, so he was not paying attention to a word he was saying. He knew this was a battle of wills, the fight before the fight, and he had no intention of losing.

Kentaro on the other hand, refused to even look Keitaro in the eye. He glanced everywhere around him, the tiniest of smiles playing across his face. Keitaro was nothing to him: a small nuisance he needed to get past to advance to the next level. And he was not shy about showing it.

"Now touch 'em up and show everyone a good clean fight!" Shimakawa exclaimed. Keitaro reached out with his gloves, but Kentaro turned and sauntered off towards his corner without touching gloves with his opponent.

* * *

"That Kentaro sure is one cocky son-of-a-bitch," Aoki sneered.

"What do you mean?" Mutsumi asked, oblivious to what just happened.

Ippo explained. "He refused to look at or even touch gloves with his opponent before the match. That is one of the most disrespectful things you can do as a boxer."

"That's terrible!" Shinobu cried.

"If Keitaro can't handle that much, he has no place being in the ring," Takamura said calmly.

"That's true," Motoko said in agreement. "He may be insolent, but this is a mind game. He knows he's in the ring with someone with no experience. It's a smart gambit."

"How will Keitaro handle this?" Kimura asked, but no one in Keitaro's cheering section could say for sure.

* * *

Keitaro returned to his corner, seething in anger. "I know you want to knock that goddamn smirk off his face, kid, but you can't let your anger get the best of you before the bell," Kamogawa said. "Now tell me once more, what's the plan?"

In the opposite corner, Kentaro continued dancing around in his corner. "Did you see the look on his face? For a moment I thought his hair was going to catch fire," Kentaro joked.

"Remember, Kentaro," Kentaro's manager reminded him, "we don't have much on this guy, so take the first round to get a feel for him and catch your rhythm."

"I got it, I got it," Kentaro said, opening his mouth. His manager shoved his mouthpiece into his mouth. "I'll be right back," Kentaro said lightheartedly.

"Very well, then," Kamogawa said confidently after listening to Keitaro repeat his battle plan, giving Keitaro his mouthpiece. "Remember to wait for my signal."

"Yes, sir," Keitaro said, setting his mouthpiece into his mouth, biting down on it for good measure.

An alert message rang out over the PA system, and the timekeeper spoke into a microphone, "Seconds out."

Everyone not directly involved with the match ducked out of the ring, leaving the two combatants and the referee as the only people standing on the canvas.

Kamogawa slapped the mat with his bare hand. "Don't give him an inch, kid! Make him regret not showing you proper respect!"

The noise from the crowd crescendoed as the opening of the match drew closer with each passing second. Keitaro could only hear the sound of his breath and the beat of his heart. The thumping in his chest no longer frightened him. It gave him strength. He murmured to himself one last time, "I'm going to win."

"Round one," a voice intoned over the PA system, followed by the sound of the opening bell.

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: Keitaro casts his fear aside and fights for victory, but his opponent will not easily concede this battle. These twelve minutes will prove to be life-changing for him, one way or the other. After all is said and done, will Keitaro be able to answer the call for victory! Find out next time (really, I mean it this time) on...HAJIME NO KEITARO!!

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry to all for the...significant...delay in releasing this chapter. I went through a pretty good dry spell, unable to come to write much if at all for a few months...but I'm back! I know I've left you all standing in the lurch after this chapter, having given you everything except what you've been waiting for, but I promise you that it will be worth the wait. In fact, I've already got the conclusion to the fight down on paper. So Chapter 16 will be out before you know it! Thanks for stopping by!


	16. Urashima vs Sakata

Author's Note: Before we begin, please note that for the sake of this chapter, Kentaro will be referred to by his family name, Sakata. This is to avoid any confusion over who is doing what to whom for however many cookies, etc. There will also be many line breaks which will signify a change in scene location between the ring, the audience, and the corners between rounds. With that out of the way, in the words of the great Mills Lane: LET'S GET IT ON

Hajime no Keitaro: Urashima vs. Sakata

Keitaro bolted out of his corner at the sound of the bell, charging straight towards Sakata. His opponent barely had time to raise his hands into a defensive position before Keitaro lashed out with ferocity with both hands at close range. A hailstorm of blows landed across Sakata's gloves and arms, forcing him back into his own corner before five seconds had elapsed in the fight.

Kamogawa could hear Sakata's entourage yelling at him to get out of the corner. "You aren't going anywhere," he grumbled from the opposite corner. He slapped the mat a few times and belted, "Look at his hands! Hit him from below!"

Keitaro, busy firing off short, compact punches over Sakata's guard, stole a quick glance at his wide-open body. Turning his hips, he launched two precise left hooks that buried deep into Sakata's ribs. Sakata hunched over from the force of the blows, and Keitaro followed with a left uppercut that grazed against his cheek.

Using his momentum, Keitaro launched a right straight towards Sakata's head. The thunderous punch landed…against the corner mat. Sakata had ducked under the punch and fled away from the corner to center ring.

* * *

In the stands, Takamura harrumphed at the crowd's stunned silence at the start of the match. "These people must not have been expecting a start like this."

Kitsune, seated next to the national champion, replied, "I don't think anyone did."

"That old geezer is a genius," Takamura continued. "To keep Keitaro from buckling under the pressure of his first match, he had him take the fight right to his opponent instead of using the first round to feel him out. Not only is it going to help build Keitaro's confidence and his rhythm, its throwing Sakata completely off balance."

"Boxing is scary," Su noted after listening to Takamura's explanation.

* * *

"Stay on top of him! Keep him pinned down!" Kamogawa shouted.

Keitaro ducked his head down and barreled forward, a fiery glint in his eyes. Sakata threw a feeble, off-balance jab that was easily slipped past. Diving into his opponent's chest, Keitaro kept up the pressure, firing punches from every angle imaginable. When Sakata tried to back away into his best range, he was bull-rushed into the ropes in an instant.

Sakata attempted to fight back, but at each opportunity, he ended up on the losing side of the exchange. Keitaro's hand speed was simply too much to bear.

"Incredible," Yagi exclaimed. "Keitaro-kun is actually too fast for Sakata to fight back. But at this rate, won't he run out of stamina too quickly?"

"Don't worry," Kamogawa said, stealing a glance at the clock. "I don't intend to have him fight at this range throughout the whole match."

"What do you mean, coach?" Yagi asked.

"You'll find out in a moment."

Sakata felt like his arms were going numb, but his guard remained strong against Keitaro's offensive onslaught. "You're starting to annoy the shit out of me," he growled from behind his gloves.

That's the idea, Keitaro thought, but he dared not say it aloud. He could not afford to lose an ounce of focus, because he was certain if he slacked off at all, Sakata would make him pay dearly for it. Upon hearing that his tactic was working, he pressed his attack even more.

Keitaro heard a voice yell, From Sakata's corner, "There's no way he can keep this up forever! Just hang in until he slows down, then nail him!"

He already knows that, Keitaro thought. And that is exactly what he was banking on. In just a few more seconds…

Kamogawa pounded hard on the mat. "Now!" he bellowed.

On cue, Keitaro paused his attack, backing up a half step. Sakata flew off the ropes with a huge right hook, and Keitaro ducked underneath the wide punch with ease. He snapped back with a textbook one-two that caught Sakata cleanly on the right cheek, knocking him off balance. After landing his punches, he retreated quickly to center ring. Having no real damage done to him, Sakata recovered quickly from Keitaro's punches, but the shock on his face told another story completely.

"His attack pattern…changed?" Yagi asked, looking just as awestruck as Sakata.

"What are you waiting for, Kentaro?" Sakata's manager screamed after noticing his boxer seemed to be frozen in place. "Go after him!"

Sakata's initial shock gave way to a burning rage, feeling humiliated by getting caught with such simple punches. I'm going to tear your goddamn heart out, Urashima, he snarled to himself. Hunching forward, he launched himself at Keitaro.

Sakata fired a left hook from close range, and Keitaro swayed backwards to avoid it, hitting back with a surprisingly fast left jab that snapped Sakata's head back. Sakata blocked a second volley of jabs successfully, but Keitaro was instantly out of range before he could recover to an attacking posture, leaving him unable to return fire. Roaring a battle cry, Sakata charged after Keitaro.

"Sakata, you've got to calm down!"

"You're throwing too wide!"

"My mother could dodge your punches right now!"

The litany of screaming from Sakata's corner did not seem to reach Kentaro's ears. He continued in bloodlust pursuit after Keitaro.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sakata's manager looked even more shell-shocked than his boxer after getting hit with Keitaro's sharp one-two. Sakata was completely thrown off of his game. In his mind, there was no way Keitaro was a simple rookie with no in-ring experience. Tearing his eyes away from the fight, in which Keitaro continued to dominate the pace, he glared malevolently across the ring at Kamogawa, who continued to sagely watch over the fight.

Of course! It was his plan the whole time. There was no way a rookie could have come up with such a brilliant plan. A smile crept upon the manager's face. "Don't think you've won, Kamogawa. You can have this round, but your boxer is going to end up face first on the canvas when this is over."

The cat and mouse game continued inside the squared circle, with Sakata giving chase, trying in vain to pin down Keitaro on the corner ropes. Keitaro weaved through Sakata's punches, striking back with pinpoint accuracy before scurrying away from danger. His blows, however accurate, had very little power behind them. A potential knockout was not in the cards, but it was not a part of the plan, either.

Sakata might have looked to be a mindless berserker on a rampage to the spectators. His face was utterly reddened with rage, unable to trap his prey, but equally unable to give up the chase.

Keitaro was amazed that he was able to stay out of danger, and he began to wonder if this endless first round would ever come to a close. He dared not worry too much about that, because Sakata's attacks were coming more and more frequently as time elapsed. He could not afford to lose focus, if even for a split second. Sway, jab, jab, back-step was his mantra, until…

The referee stepped between the two fighters and yelled, "Stop!"

Keitaro froze in place, and looked around. Sakata, looking furious, snarled menacingly at him before he turned towards his corner. Keitaro never heard the bell ring. "Get over here," Kamogawa yelled at him, pointing towards the stool placed on the canvas in the blue corner.

The crowd roared with appreciation of the action-packed first round as Keitaro made his way back to his corner. "I…I made it," Keitaro said, turning and dropping his bottom down onto the stool.

"Just relax for now and recover your breath," Kamogawa said as he rubbed an ice bag on Keitaro's neck and shoulders.

Keitaro closed his eyes as Yagi rubbed petroleum jelly across Keitaro's forehead and cheeks. He became suddenly aware of just how heavily he was breathing. Keeping up such a frenetic pace really took a lot out of him, but he felt his stamina quickly returning as his body cooled under the iciness of the bag.

* * *

"That was Keitaro's round by far," Ippo said, returning to his seat. "He completely dominated the pace, and scored again and again both inside and out."

"That switch-up in the middle of the round was pure genius," Aoki said with a cackle.

"That was amazing, wasn't it, Narusegawa-san?" Mutsumi exclaimed, tugging at Naru's sleeve like a giddy baby sister.

"I'm completely speechless," Naru said, gazing in awe at what just transpired before her eyes. There was no way that Keitaro, or at least, the Keitaro she knew, was capable of what he had just done.

Haruka harrumphed. "All that time spent training, sacrificing his time and his body all for this moment. It sure is awe-inspiring."

"That guy looked so mad. He looked like he was trying to kill Urashima-senpai," Shinobu said, looking shaken to the core.

Su giggled. "He never even hit Keitaro one time, though. I never had a problem kicking Keitaro in the head before! That guy just plain sucks!"

"Jumping out of hiding with a roundhouse kick and boxing in a ring are two different things, Su-chan," Kitsune explained with a chuckle.

"Don't get too excited," Kimura said. "That was just the first round. There are still three more to come."

"And Keitaro wasn't aiming for a KO at all," Takamura noted. "The plan was to infuriate Sakata and take him off his rhythm. That worked like a charm in the first round. But what's going to happen now that Keitaro's going to be taken seriously?"

Motoko kept her eyes forward, gazing stoically into the ring. She could not bring herself to admit that Keitaro indeed performed splendidly in that round. Nor did she murmur a word about her agreement with Takamura. Her well-trained eyes could easily see the spiritual pressure building in the ring against Keitaro. Do not take your opponent lightly, Urashima, she thought.

* * *

"Goddamn that son-of-a-bitch!" Sakata cursed loudly.

"Get a hold of yourself," Sakata's manager said calmly.

"Out of my face, Marumoto," Sakata sneered, pawing his manager's hand away from his face with his glove.

"Don't you understand what the hell is going on here?" Marumoto cried.

"I understand perfectly," Sakata said, his voice lowering a half-octave.

"Then calm the hell down and let us get you ready for the next round!"

"Fine then," Sakata said nonchalantly, finally allowing Marumoto to press an anti-swelling pad above his left eye. "I'm going to make that bastard regret making a fool out of me like that."

Marumoto considered saying that Sakata should not have allowed himself to be made to look foolish in the first place, but decided against it in the end. He needed his fighter calm at the end of the interval. Chastising him would be pointless.

* * *

"How is it out there?" Kamogawa asked.

"He's pretty fast out there; much faster than he looks on film. I had to focus really hard to keep from getting caught. I didn't even hear the bell ring, and I had no idea I was so out of breath at the end of the round," Keitaro answered.

Kamogawa stole a glance at Yagi, who looked back at him with a worried expression. He was also concerned about Keitaro's energy output in that round. He noticed Keitaro breathing heavily through his mouth after the bell, but his breath had nearly slowed to its normal level already. His fighter was in top condition.

"Seconds out," the intercom ordered.

"Remember, you threw him off his rhythm in the first round, but don't expect it to be so easy this time," Kamogawa explained quickly, giving Keitaro his mouthpiece and stepping out of the ring. Yagi cleared the stool through the ropes and scurried down the ring steps. "Keep using your feet! Don't stand toe-to-toe with him! Stick and move!"

Keitaro nodded, feeling his legs come back to life as he bounced on his feet.

"Round two!" the intercom said dramatically, and the sound of the bell immediately followed.

Keitaro took up his fighting pose and took two steps forward before stopping in his tracks. His eyes widened in shock. Sakata was standing still in the opposing corner, slowly approaching him. That was to be expected. But for some reason, Sakata appeared to be much larger in his vision, almost the size of Takamura. He was frozen in place, a sudden, inexplicable wave of fear crashing over him. Sakata continued to slowly approach.

"Keitaro, move it out of the corner!" Kamogawa barked, but to no avail.

* * *

"He's feeling it now," Takamura said, gazing down at the ring with one eye closed. "The pressure of his debut match."

For the first time since the match began, Kitsune showed a genuine look of concern. "But why now? He did so well in the first round!"

"There's a bunch of different possible reasons," Takamura replied, and he counted the reasons out on his hand for emphasis. "The old man gave him specific orders for the first round, taking the thought out of the entire process. Keitaro has to think on his feet now, which is dangerous for someone with no experience. Coming in, he probably thought there was no way he could win this fight. Having won the first round, a glimmer of hope appeared before him, and he might be afraid of losing his chance. Plus, he's also not taken a clean hit from Sakata yet. He's only done the hitting so far. That has to be creeping into his mind as well."

Takamura grinned maliciously as he continued. "If you ask me, though, it's the look in Sakata's eyes. He's finally taking Keitaro seriously. When a vastly superior opponent decides to get serious against you, you need to have your nuts screwed on tight to keep them from falling off of you. Trust me, I know. Many strong boxers have fallen apart before me."

Ignoring that Takamura was acting like a pretentious ass once again, Ippo asked his sempai, "But didn't he spar against you, Takamura-san? If he was able to stand up against the junior-middleweight champion for three minutes, this should be easy for him, shouldn't it?"

Takamura laughed quietly. "Sure, but that was in a spar. This is the real thing, in front of a huge crowd; at least, a huge crowd to his eyes. All sorts of doubts are probably weighing on him right now. Any rookie would buckle under this kind of pressure."

* * *

Keitaro felt a cold sweat start to drip from his forehead. Why does he look so much bigger than he did before? Why do my legs feel so heavy right now? Why is the world seemingly spinning before my eyes? Is he close enough to hit me from there? I can't tell. He might still be far away, but I can't see straight! What the hell is going on!?

Sakata grinned behind his gloves as he watched Keitaro begin to buckle at the knees. As he thought, the little punk would not be able to handle any sort of pressure placed on him. As he reached striking distance, he had a vision of fish in a barrel, and he was holding a twelve-gauge shotgun.

_He's got to be close enough to hit me now!_ Keitaro's mind screamed. _But, will it be a left, or a right that comes first? I've got to dodge it! If I can avoid getting hit, maybe this weird feeling will pass._ Keitaro stiffened his guard, and waited anxiously.

Sakata made a quick step forward, flinching his left hand. Keitaro dodged wide to his left, buying the ruse completely. As I expected, Sakata thought. "Now die!" He yelled, nailing Keitaro squarely in the face with a right cross.

Keitaro stumbled back into his own corner, recovering from the sudden shock of the blow he never saw coming in the nick of time to raise his guard. A flurry of punches rained down on Keitaro's arms and the top of his head, as Sakata pressed his advantage.

"Get out of the corner now, Keitaro!" Kamogawa shrieked. "Clinch if you have to!"

_Like I'll let you! _Sensing Keitaro trying to reach towards him, Sakata slammed both of his fists into Keitaro's ribcage repeatedly, forcing Keitaro to retract his arms. When he did, Sakata went upstairs with his punches, landing a few clean shots to Keitaro's face before his guard solidified.

"This bastard…he's good," Kamogawa said aloud, if only to remind himself with whom he was dealing. "You've got to punch your way out, kid! Let your hands go! Don't be afraid to take a few hits!"

Keitaro, despite his apprehension, complied, firing off a short left hook that Sakata weaved under before returning with a right hook that found its mark on Keitaro's jaw. The force of the counterpunch sent Keitaro into the ropes, and he rebounded back to where he was. Sakata's rush continued, and Keitaro's arms were beginning to go numb from the constant battering.

Keitaro's mind began to race. _I can't keep this up! My guard is going to break eventually, and when it does, I'm going to end up waking up face first on the mat! But I can't just throw punches. I've got to think! Push him away. Give myself room to move. Push forward!_

Keitaro peeked over his gloves, and saw Sakata gnashing his teeth as he poured on the punches. Sweat was flying off of his hair and face as he moved left, right, and left again. _Of course! This pattern is so simple. Just wait…wait…NOW!_

As quick as an arrow in flight, Keitaro matched up Sakata's rhythmic left and right combination with a sharp right straight that just barely grazed against Sakata's cheek. Although the blow was only a near miss, the return fire was unexpected, and caught the more experienced fighter off guard. As Sakata took a half step backward, Keitaro took advantage of the opportunity by rifling a quick one-two that Sakata was forced to block. The two blows gave Keitaro sufficient space to escape the corner.

* * *

"There you go, Keitaro!" Haruka belted, rising to her feet momentarily. She froze halfway between sitting and standing as the people around her looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What? I can cheer for my nephew if I want to. You should all cheer for him too!"

"You're right, Haruka-san! Everyone, let's give Urashima-san our support, okay?" Mutsumi exclaimed breathlessly.

* * *

Keitaro took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He finally broke out of the corner, and he felt the blood returning to his arms by the signature tingling sensation. Keitaro noticed that Sakata had returned to his normal size after he turned to greet him once more. His feet were firmly below him, and he could see everything clearly. The haze over his eyes was mysteriously lifted as if it never existed.

"Alright, here's where the fight starts! Take it to him, Keitaro!" Kamogawa yelled.

Keitaro took a half-step forward but quickly retreated when Sakata closed the gap to mid-range in an instant. Without any hesitation, Sakata rifled away with his jab, forcing Keitaro back onto his heels. Following Keitaro's movement flawlessly, Sakata poured on the hits from his best range, cutting off all avenues of escape.

Keitaro realized he was left with no choice but to plant his feet before he was slugged back against the ropes once more. He slipped a jab and stepped forward to counter, but Sakata's hand speed proved too much, as a second and third jab followed the first, hitting him flush on the nose.

* * *

"Why the hell is Keitaro trying to duck inside like that?" Kitsune asked. "His range is about the same as the other guy's isn't it?"

"He's not intentionally trying to avoid his best range, Kitsune-san," Ippo replied. "He's avoiding his opponent's best range."

"You mean his best is better than Keitaro's best?" Su asked.

"When faced with a similar but superior opponent, your base tactics will be futile," Motoko said monotonously, her eyes never leaving the ring. "In essence, unless the equilibrium is broken somehow, Urashima has no other choice than to use his second-best skill set."

"That's…exactly right," Kimura said, awestruck.

Aoki leaned over towards Kimura and whispered to him as quietly as possible, "We'd better not mess with that one." Kimura nodded in agreement.

* * *

Keitaro slowly acclimated himself to the speed of Sakata's jab after several trial-and-error attempts to push into his chest. As the warning chime sounded there were 10 seconds remaining in the round, Keitaro resolved to try his gambit one more time.

Using the bob-and-weave, Keitaro ducked under one jab, swayed away from another and rushed forward until he crashed shoulder first into Sakata. He immediately turned his hips to throw a right hook. Just before his blow was to land, his vision suddenly flashed white and faded to black. His ears, once filled with the sound of grunting, gloves slamming against gloves, and the roar of the crowd was instantly replaced with a dull, high-pitched ringing.

_Where am I? What happened? Did my punch land? What's going on here? _All feeling in his arms and legs completely vanished into the darkness, leaving him in an almost-Zen-like state. But going into a trance right in the middle of his match was the last thing he needed.

Keitaro floated in the darkness for an indeterminable amount of time until at last a sliver of light broke through the black, followed by an incredibly strong bitter smell wafting into his brain. He mentally recoiled from the stench, but it continued, becoming exponentially stronger with each passing moment.

At once, all of Keitaro's senses came back to him, causing him to start. His vision was blurred but full of vibrant color, and he could hear the crowd murmuring outside of the ring. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, and the foul smell had disappeared. He could taste something wet and metallic in his mouth. What amazed him most was that he was sitting down on the stool in his corner. How much time passed since he blacked out, he had no clue.

"Relax, Keitaro, just breathe," Kamogawa said evenly.

Keitaro squinted his eyes into focus. Kamogawa was leaning over him, swabbing his nose with a Q-Tip. When he pulled the cotton stick out, Keitaro noticed it was drenched with his blood.

"What happened?" Keitaro asked with a grimace.

"You took a huge counter punch with five seconds left in the round," Yagi told Keitaro. Keitaro could tell by the sound of his voice that Yagi was exceptionally worried. "A right hook on a right hook."

"Did I lose?" Keitaro asked, pain stricken.

"No," Kamogawa said flatly, tilting Keitaro's head back and pouring water into his open mouth from a bottle. "You made it through the last few seconds on your feet, and you even managed to make it back to the corner on your own. But we could tell just by looking at you that you were unconscious. You did good to make it through. Most boxers would have been knocked out from that punch."

Keitaro swirled the water around in his mouth and spit it into a bucket that Yagi put underneath his chin. The spit was crimson colored, explaining the metallic taste in his mouth.

"Can you go on, Keitaro?" Kamogawa asked.

Keitaro blinked a few times. His vision was still hazy, but it was clearing rapidly. She swirling colors were manifesting into solid shapes. Leaning to one side, he peered at the other corner around Kamogawa. Sakata was sitting on his stool, looking as confident as ever, staring maliciously back at him. Keitaro straightened his spine and took a deep breath. "Yes, I can go on."

* * *

"I don't know how the hell he remained standing after that counter, but I guarantee you he won't recover enough over the interval to make a difference," Marumoto explained to Sakata. "He was out on his feet. Move in right at the bell and finish him off."

"Why so serious, Marumoto?" Sakata asked, giving his coach a mischievous grin. "He's got no power behind his punches. He couldn't hurt me if he tried. He's nothing more than a rag-doll now. Why not give the crowd their money's worth?"

"This is no time to play around, Kentaro. This is a tune-up match, remember? This crowd expects a quick KO, not you winning on points."

Sakata chuckled haughtily. "Don't worry. They'll get their KO, but only when I'm ready to put him down."

* * *

In the stands, Kitsune was busy consoling a weeping Shinobu. "There, there, kiddo. He's all right. See, he made it back to the corner without any help."

"I know, but," Shinobu paused between sobs, "that guy is too strong. Urashima-sempai is going to get hurt badly if this keeps up!"

Kitsune looked to her and Keitaro's friends, seeing nothing other than downtrodden faces. Mutsumi was covering her mouth with her hands. It seemed watching Keitaro take this kind of punishment was taking its toll on her. Haruka rubbed Mutsumi's back, trying to give her some comfort. Motoko was gazing down at the floor in front of her, looking like someone fated to pick between two poisons. Su was blinking rapidly as she looked in the ring. The color in her cheeks was drained away, and she looked like a ghost despite her dark complexion. Naru looked both like a confused child and a worried mother. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. She fidgeted around, unable to get comfortable, while taking several calming breaths.

The boxers did not appear to be any more cheerful. Takamura looked on grimly, but that seemed normal for him. Aoki and Kimura exchanged nervous glances. Ippo looked like a mirror image of Motoko. He simply stared down at his feet.

"He's…not going to win, is he?" Naru asked suddenly, taking everyone by surprise. She continued to look forward, her eyes casting up and down.

No one could respond to that question, but the answer was obvious. For them, this was no longer about Keitaro winning the fight, but making sure that he came home safely.

* * *

"Seconds out," intoned the intercom.

Keitaro pulled himself to his feet, but not without a significant amount of strain. His legs felt like gelatinous masses, and he wobbled to and fro. It was as if he was carrying an extra forty kilograms of weight on his shoulders. Being dizzy from the blood rushing away from his head as he stood did nothing to help.

Kamogawa offered Keitaro his mouthpiece. "Leave everything out there, all right? Give him all you've got!"

Keitaro nodded, and Kamogawa scrambled out of the ring. Yagi glanced over at Kamogawa, who looked back at him. Yagi exhaled sharply, shaking his head a bit.

Keitaro looked back at the men standing in his corner. "_Ganbaremasu_," he said, slamming his gloves together. (A/N: Ganbaremasu = I'll do my best)

"Round three," the faceless announcer intoned, and the bell sounded immediately after the intercom.

Keitaro stepped away from the corner at the bell, and Yagi watched as he and Sakata engaged one another at center ring.

"There's no way he can win, coach! Why aren't you stopping this before Keitaro gets hurt?" Yagi pleaded to Kamogawa, who kept his eyes firmly on the action.

"Just before the bell, when he looked back at me…it was his eyes…they were the same as the other kid in his match against Vorg. His eyes…they were the kind that can make miracles happen. He can still win!"

That's just not possible, Yagi thought. Keitaro was not Ippo. But he also knew that Aoki and Kimura were not Ippo, either, and they had also claimed victory from the jaws of defeat on countless occasions against seemingly insurmountable odds. Takamura was simply a monster. He had yet to be involved in an all-out mix-up. Just what kept the members of the Kamogawa gym driving forward, driving back the darkness of defeat and spitting in the eye of fate? Mystified, Yagi resigned to support Keitaro to the very end, and hoped that Keitaro would at last give him an answer to his question.

As the battle was joined in mid-ring, Keitaro planted his feet. _This is all I can do. I'm not going to run anymore. So let's have it out right here in the middle of the ring!_

Sakata smirked as he worked his way ever closer to Keitaro. He surmised that the damage from his counter at the end of the last round had taken Keitaro's legs away from him. It seemed all he could do was stand in one place, plant his feet, and simply try not to get knocked down. _All right, then, I'll give you what you want. But when you wake up in the hospital the day after tomorrow, you'll regret ever trying to stand toe-to-toe with me!_

Sakata stepped forward into striking range and let the heels of his feet fall to the canvas. The die was cast.

Keitaro led with a surprisingly fast right, and Sakata was forced to brush it away with his glove. A venomous grin crept upon Sakata's face. With Keitaro's legs wavering like vegetation in autumn during a windstorm, he was not able to put any weight behind his punches. His already powerless punches were even further enfeebled.

"Weak," Sakata said calmly, and riposted with a firm one-two that forced Keitaro backwards a step. Even though Keitaro blocked the blows, the force against his shaky legs was enough to push him backward. Sakata openly taunted Keitaro by waving him closer with his left glove.

Keitaro tried to quickly step back into range, but his left knee buckled under his weight, and his left jab he intended for Sakata's head landed harmlessly against his guard. A quick flurry from Sakata, two left jabs and a right hook with a step in sent Keitaro flailing backwards, the ring ropes saving him from a down. He clutched onto the rope with his arm for dear life for a few full seconds to regain his balance. Sakata, refusing to capitalize on this stark advantage, simply smirked while switching rapidly to southpaw and back to orthodox, showing off his fresh legs.

* * *

"This is hopeless," Motoko said, turning her head away from the ring like it were a grisly image from a B-grade horror flick. It was the first time she took her eyes off of Keitaro. From her vantage point, claiming victory was impossible, and she found no pleasure in watching him be degraded. It would be better for her if Keitaro simply gave up.

"Please, Motoko-chan…" Naru said, clutching her hands in her lap. Her voice was eerily calm. "Don't say that."

"Naru-sempai," Motoko began to protest, but when she glanced down at Naru's white knuckles clutching a handful of her skirt, she caught herself. She underestimated how much stress Naru must be under, and her words, although truthful, in retrospect came off as cool and uncaring. "I understand. I apologize."

* * *

Taking heaving breaths, Keitaro slowly inched forward to engage Sakata at middle ring once more. His vision was beginning to get hazy again, and on more than one occasion he saw multiple images of Sakata grinning haughtily at him. But this was his choice. There was no other gambit. A flash of leather, and Keitaro's head bounced back and forth like a pinball caught between two bumpers. He tried to return fire, but Sakata sidestepped his ever-slowing punches and continued his brutal assault.

A strong body blow followed by an uppercut sent Keitaro flailing furiously. Trying to catch himself, he slipped backwards and fell onto his back, looking like a marionette with its strings suddenly cut away. The crowd roared to life, raining down thunderous approval of Sakata's masterful ring work.

The referee stepped between Sakata and Keitaro in a flash. "Down! To your neutral corner!" he ordered Sakata, pointing towards one of the white colored corner mats.

ONE

"Just stay down there, man. You don't want any more of this," Sakata said, leaning down over Keitaro's prone body.

The referee gave Sakata a firm shove. "I said get your ass to the neutral corner!"

TWO

Laughing as if assured of his victory, Sakata sauntered towards the neutral corner furthest away from Keitaro's fallen body, pumping his fist into the air to the delight of his supporters in the audience closest to that ring post.

The referee turned back to Keitaro, who had begun to raise his head from the mat, and picked up the count from the intercom timing system.

THREE

"Come on, Keitaro, get up!" Haruka yelled over the din. There was no way Keitaro could hear her, but nevertheless, she felt compelled to belt out her support.

Naru closed her eyes. This had to be it. She wondered if Keitaro would ever be the same after losing like this.

FOUR

Keitaro struggled to a seated position. He glanced around momentarily, as if waking up from some strange dream to find himself in some foreign room.

FIVE

Keitaro found his corner. Yagi and Kamogawa were yelling at him, but he couldn't hear them over the roar of the crowd. But their body language…they were telling him to stand up.

SIX

Keitaro gasped. He suddenly remembered where he was, as he locked eyes with the referee. The count was already six! Summoning all of his might, he quickly worked his way to his knees and pressed himself upwards with both his arms and his legs.

SEVEN

Straining against his own weight, which now felt like an extra fifty kilograms, Keitaro let out an audible grunt as he locked his knees into a full standing position and raised his gloves to his chin.

EIGHT

The referee looked Keitaro over appraisingly. "Can you go on?" The referee asked. Keitaro nodded and said, "Yes," with as much gumption as he could muster.

Taking a few paces back, the referee motioned Keitaro to move forward, saying, "Walk towards me."

Keitaro bit down on his mouthpiece for support as he stepped forward, hoping for all that he was worth that his knees would cooperate with him. Luckily, he stood firm in front of the referee in the end. The referee had Keitaro wipe his gloves off on his trunks before he turned aside and ordered the fight to continue.

Sakata shook his head slightly and let out a visible sigh of frustration at Keitaro's tenacity. Regardless, he stepped forward aggressively, intent on finishing the fight quickly.

* * *

"I can't believe he actually stood up after all of that," Mutsumi said, looking over the ring as if discovering her liddo-kun doll had it's head ripped off by a nefarious sibling.

"Just make it stop now," Shinobu sobbed, burying her head into Su's arm.

"It's okay, Shinobu. It's Keitaro, after all. He always gets up after he gets knocked down," Su said, patting Shinobu lovingly on the back.

"There's no two-knockdown rule back at Hinata Sou, Su-chan," Kitsune said. "If Keitaro gets knocked down again this round, it won't matter if he gets back up. He'll lose!"

"And there's still almost two minutes left," Kimura noted.

"It's gonna take a miracle…"

* * *

Retreating was a pointless tactic. A stiff breeze would have been enough to knock Keitaro down, he was sure. Perhaps the ropes would hold him up, but that would be nothing except a temporary stalling tactic. He stepped forward, displaying a hidden courage that might have surprised him if he were watching the fight from a third-party perspective. He was resolute. If he were to go down, it would not be without a fight.

"That's it, kid," Kamogawa whispered aloud, but there was no one close enough to hear him. "Show me your resolve. Leave it all in the ring."

Seemingly fearless, Keitaro attacked first with feeble lefts and rights. Even still, his offensive display positively shocked Sakata, who was incredulous that Keitaro would have the audacity to return to his feet after being so dominated. A one-two from Keitaro landed cleanly on Sakata's chin, but Keitaro felt no feedback in his hands. The strikes were likely more damaging psychologically than physically.

Seething in anger, Sakata riposted with a body attack that ripped through Keitaro's paper-thin guard. Keitaro hunched over in agony, but he bit down on his mouthpiece, continuing to flail away at Sakata, landing with as many blows as he missed.

Marumoto stood silent in the red corner, his mouth agape. He thought that even a near miss would have felled Keitaro a second time, giving his charge the knockout victory. But he was showing incredible willpower, a hidden strength that can only be obtained through rigorous physical and mental training.

He knew that was the strength of the Kamogawa Gym. After all, the number one contender in the featherweight division, a member of that very gym, paved the road to his title shot with comeback knockouts won with naught more than sheer tenacity. However, seeing the very same strength from a newbie? This was something unheard of to him. Just what was driving this man forward after being beaten back countless times?

The two boxers continued to mix it up in the middle of the ring. Sakata had the obvious advantage, as Keitaro's blows did next to nothing while Sakata's clean hits continually knocked Keitaro off-balance. Despite this, Keitaro gave himself a puncher's chance, pouring on the offense.

"Why the hell won't you go down?" Sakata growled, grazing the top of Keitaro's head with a right hook. Keitaro, looking almost trance-like, answered with his fists instead of words. Sakata was sure Keitaro was hurting. The proof was written on his face: His right eye was beginning to swell, and he was bleeding from both nostrils. However, despite the grimace on his face, there remained a fiery glow in his eyes. He had yet to break his spirit. So be it, Sakata thought.

Inexplicably, Sakata halted in his tracks, taking up a defensive posture. Keitaro, not wanting to miss his chance in case Sakata had punched himself out, continued to pour on rights and lefts, his blows becoming wider and wider. He failed to note that Sakata was not backing off at all. In fact, they were still directly in the middle of the ring.

* * *

"What the hell happened? Did he suddenly run out of steam?" Kitsune asked.

"No, this is different," Kimura said with a puzzled look. "He just decided to stop attacking."

"He's baiting him," Aoki said, smirking inwardly. He was proud of himself for having seen through the ruse before anyone else.

"A counter punch," Ippo noted. "He's going to try to knock him out for good!"

The females surrounding the boxers all gasped at once.

"Keitaro can't see through the haze of his damage," Takamura explained. "He probably thinks he has the upper hand right now. He couldn't be more wrong."

* * *

Kamogawa looked perplexed for a moment, until he realized the deception. He inhaled sharply, "Keitaro, don't…" his voice left him. He was too late.

Keitaro never saw the left hook that violently crashed with full force into his right temple. What he did see was a blink of blinding white light, and then darkness, just as in the previous round.

_This darkness again? _Keitaro thought. _That must mean that I was hit with a big one again. But I don't feel any pain…why? Ah, I must have gotten knocked out. I'll probably wake up in the dressing room, with everyone standing over me, looking at me with pity in their eyes. Please, just don't let Narusegawa see me like this…_

Naru appeared in his mind's eye, her face wearing the same expression as when he last spoke with her. He failed to realize it before, but now he could clearly see the worried look on her face. It was ironic that he needed to be literally knocked senseless to notice.

Keitaro suddenly felt a lurching sensation, like waking up from a dream in which he was falling. But this was a real sensation. He was literally falling down on his back.

Kamogawa pounded his fist on the mat. "Stay up, kid!"

The light began to return to Keitaro's eyes and three dark, cloudy images of Kentaro raising his right arm in triumph appeared in his vision. _I was stupid to accept this challenge. I didn't stand a chance from the start. What the hell came over me?_

Naru's smiling face appeared before him. _I was so selfish! All of this I did only for myself, thinking this would help me get closer to her. Stupid Keitaro, you never considered her feelings! And now, you're going to have nothing to show for all of this!_

Keitaro watched as Kentaro turned away from him, walking away with his hands held high._ But it's okay. I've done all I can against this strong boxer. I can sleep well knowing that I had no chance to win. Forgive me, Narusegawa. When this is over, I promise I'll make things right between us._

Keitaro's body continued to fall backward, his vision dulled, and the sound of the cheering audience faded to silence. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate…

"KEITARO! HANG IN THERE!"

With a sharp intake of air, Keitaro's senses returned to him at once, and his left leg shot backwards, keeping him from falling to the canvas. He snapped his guard into a southpaw position, his limbs wobbling furiously.

A collective gasp echoed through the hall, and the crowd cheered in response to Keitaro's show of guts.

"That's it, Keitaro," Kamogawa shouted. "Just make it through the round!"

Sakata turned back around to Keitaro's direction and his face fell. He felt as if he was looking into the face of a monster. _Impossible! The force and timing of that shot was perfect! He should be out cold!_

Keitaro panted heavily, blinking his eyes to refocus them. His knees buckled, but he refused to go down. _I heard her voice! Narusegawa is here, cheering for me! I can't lose now! Not after all of the sacrifice we've both made!

* * *

_

Naru's heart pounded in her chest, the steady cadence ringing in her ears. She cupped her hands to her mouth and bellowed at the top of her voice, "YOU CAN DO IT! I BELIEVE YOU CAN DO IT!" A few people in the rows directly in front of her turned around and glared at her, covering their ears with their hands, but she did not care. She continued to scream her support with everything she had. It was the first time since she could remember not giving a damn about what other people thought about her actions. "All of you, cheer him on with me," she exclaimed breathlessly at her friends as she forcefully pulled an astonished Haruka to her feet.

* * *

Kentaro reassumed his fighting pose. _Urashima, you son of a bitch! Do you think I'll let you survive now after making a mockery of my strength? Now you'll die!_ Roaring a battle cry, Kentaro sprinted from his corner, rearing back with his right.

Keitaro felt his heart pounding in his chest, and an intensely powerful warmth spread instantly from his chest to his head, arms and legs. He thought of Kamogawa holding the mitts in front of him, telling him not to give up. _I haven't done everything I can yet._

_All of my friends are here to support me. I'll answer their calls. _As the images of his boxing friends passed through his mind, his legs stopped shaking, and the tension in his shoulders vanished like vapor in a stiff morning breeze.

Keitaro heard the voices of his tenants cheering him on in the stands. _I'm sorry, everyone._

His mind's eye focused on Naru, who was cheering passionately, with tears streaming down her face. _Especially you, Narusegawa…forgive me._

Keitaro clenched his fists, the fire within his heart reaching a fever pitch. _I'm going to be selfish just a little bit longer._

"DIE!" Sakata exclaimed, letting a right haymaker fly at Keitaro's jaw, but his punch connected against nothing but air. As his body flied off balance from his missed punch, Sakata darted around with his eyes, trying to find his opponent. He was gone…

Sakata spun around as his body rebounded off of the ring ropes. As soon as he found his bearings, a red glove flashed in front of his eyes, seemingly out of nowhere. _What the…_

A powerful right hook answered Sakata's question, its force combined with his forward momentum snapping his head viciously to the side. He felt as if a bolt of lightning had just struck him. Losing control over his limbs, he stumbled to his right, trying to raise his guard up as he bounced into the ropes once more.

As he helplessly watched Keitaro approach him with an open guard, looking none the worse for wear after all the punishment dealt to him, Sakata felt something he had never felt in the ring before. Fear. This guy had to be some sort of monster! Otherwise, how could he recover so quickly?

"Iron Jaw," Kamogawa intoned, answering the horrified, quizzical expression on Sakata's face. At last, Keitaro latent ability reared its powerful head, and not a moment too soon. "Now get in there and finish it, Keitaro!"

Closing the distance in a flash, Keitaro rushed against Sakata's weakening guard, pounding him to the right and left, up and down, slamming him into the corner mat with more powerful punches than he had ever thrown before.

_Goddamn it! There's no way I'm going to lose to a weakling like you! I'm going to open you up with one more counter, and then I'm gonna spit on your dead body, Urashima!_ With a loud grunt, Sakata took a half step backward to avoid a left hook. Sensing the opportunity, he twisted his lower half and swung wide towards Keitaro's wide-open head.

Instinctively sensing danger after missing with his left hook, Keitaro rocked away, hearing the air sizzle as Sakata's would-be knockout punch sailed by his nose.

Kamogawa slammed the mat with both fists. "NOW!"

Keitaro reared back to his right, twisting his hips so that his back was nearly to Sakata, who was now completely off balance after missing with his counter-hook. He stepped forward, slamming his left foot down on the mat for stability. With a fierce battle cry, and with one smooth motion, he twisted his lower body from his toes to his hips, feeling the energy build up in him like a wave. Channeling the energy into his chest, he let loose with his right hand, focusing every last bit of power into his fist.

A bomb detonated in Keitaro's right hand as it connected squarely with Sakata's face. The feedback from the blow sent a return ripple of energy down Keitaro's spine and into his legs, where the energy was absorbed. He knew immediately that he had done it.

Sakata, whose face was bloodied from Keitaro's right cross, took one more defiant look at Keitaro. His eyes were completely dull and lifeless. Keitaro knew he was out cold. He held his next punch back, and watched as Sakata's body went limp and he fell face first onto the mat.

The crowd exploded into a raucous cheer, including a small group of girls in the upper deck that were jumping up and down in uninhibited joy.

The referee stepped between Keitaro and the fallen body of Sakata. He ordered Keitaro to the furthest neutral corner, and Keitaro complied by taking a few steps backward as the referee turned and knelt next to Sakata. After a quick moment of checking over the fallen boxer, the referee crossed his hands in the air.

**DING DING DING DING DING **

The timekeeper rang the bell loudly several times over the din of the crowd, and it rose to an even louder volume. Keitaro stood at center ring, looking dumbstruck at the sight before him. Sakata remained prone as his corner men rushed into the ring. They told him to stay down as he rolled over onto his back.

"Urashima-kun!" Yagi jumped into the ring with a stool, hurrying over to Keitaro. Kamogawa was right behind him, wearing a crooked grin as he folded his arms over his chest.

Keitaro turned his head to look at Yagi, who started pulling him towards the corner. "Yagi-san? Coach?" Yagi ordered Keitaro to sit, and Keitaro complied wordlessly. The fire burning inside Keitaro was extinguished as soon as the match ended, and he was more than happy to sit, as his newfound strength quickly left him.

Yagi pulled Keitaro's eyebrows up, checking his eyes. "He seems okay," he said, sounding relieved. With a few deft cuts with a pair of scissors, Yagi hastily removed the gloves from Keitaro's hands. "Can you stand?"

Keitaro nodded weakly, and with Yagi's support and a few false starts, pulled himself back to his feet.

"Well done," Kamogawa said to Keitaro. There was a stark contrast between the sound of his voice and the look on his face. He was obviously praising his boxer, but he dared not show his joy outwardly. "You did exactly what you were taught to win the match."

Keitaro peered down at his taped fists. "That's right. I won." The feeling of victory had not yet seeped in, but the trauma from throwing so many punches was already bearing fruit. It was painful to clench his hands.

Meanwhile, Sakata, with help from his trainer, limped over towards Keitaro. "Urashima," he called out to him. Keitaro looked up at his beaten opponent; despite the fact he was leaning on his trainer for support and was clearly favoring his right side, Keitaro was fearful of him. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he looked like he wanted to tear his head off and eat his eyeballs.

Sakata nodded to his trainer, who released him. He stood up straight before Keitaro and bowed to him respectfully. "Thanks for an awesome match. I underestimated you."

Keitaro was shell-shocked until Kamogawa gave him a nudge in his back. He bowed deeply in reply. "Thank you very much."

Kentaro raised his right fist out to Keitaro, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "Let do this again sometime on a bigger stage, alright?"

Keitaro grinned. "You got it!" He pounded his right fist against Kentaro's extended glove.

As Sakata was escorted from the ring to the heartwarming applause from the crowd, Kamogawa quipped, "We got lucky."

"Hmm?" Keitaro hummed, turning his head towards Kamogawa.

"All of his weaknesses came to bear in this match: senseless pride, lack of discipline, and relying too much on the same tactics. We were fortunate to capitalize on these shortcomings. His next opponent won't be so lucky."

Keitaro shuddered at the thought. Sakata had the potential to be a real monster in the featherweight division if he dedicated himself to his training and took nothing for granted. He had a gut feeling that is exactly what would happen. On thinking about his next potential opponent, he thought, better them than me.

Following the formalities of being officially declared the winner and having his hand raised by the referee, Keitaro stepped through the ropes and onto the ring steps. The crowd warmly applauded his performance, with many hecklers calling out for him to return soon. Keitaro's mind swam at the thought that he actually acquired some fans.

To him, however, the only fans that mattered were the ones that were now yelling for his attention from the second level of the hall. He looked up and saw all of his friends waving down at him and congratulating him. His eyes locked with Naru's, and he saw her crack the slimmest of smiles as she waved lightly at him. He raised his right hand and waved back at the motley group.

Kamogawa, standing right behind Keitaro on the steps, finally lost his patience. "Come on, get a move on," he grumbled, giving Keitaro a good poke in the back with his cane. Keitaro fell forward, but he caught himself. He overcorrected, and his foot slipped off the end of the step he was standing on, causing him to tumble down the last two stairs on his rear end.

The crowd collectively gasped, but as Keitaro recovered, and explained that he was all right to anyone listening, the silence broke into a litany of laughter. Kamogawa chased Keitaro down the entrance hall with his cane before he made a further fool of himself.

* * *

Amidst the calls from the boxers to head down to the dressing room to meet Keitaro and congratulate him on his hard-fought victory, Naru giggled. "He's still an idiot, after all."

Haruka chuckled merrily. "But he was amazing, wasn't he?"

Naru nodded her head. "Yeah, he really was."

K.O. TIME

3 Rounds 2:13

Keitaro Urashima

1 Fight, 1 Win

1 KO

A resounding debut victory!

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: After an incredible comeback victory, Keitaro and his posse head out to celebrate. Amidst the pomp, however, remains a thread of tension. There is unfinished business between Naru and Keitaro. Will they at last lay down their weapons and parlay their differences? Find out next time on: Hajime no Keitaro!!!


	17. Fateful Choice

Disclaimer on Chapter 1

Hajime no Keitaro: Fateful Choice

Feeling wearier then he could recall in recent memory, Keitaro sat silently on the bench in the blue corner's dressing room as Yagi painstakingly cut and removed the tape from his hands. "You were really impressive there at the end, Keitaro-kun," Yagi said with his usual bubbly cheerfulness as he turned Keitaro's left hand so his palm was facing down and snipped away masterfully with a pair of scissors.

"Really?" Keitaro asked in reply, his lips curling upward. "I don't recall exactly what happened. In fact, the more I think about it, the less I can remember about how I won."

"That's to be expected, honestly," Kamogawa explained. "You took a bunch of damage in those last two rounds. Much more than I would have liked. That's going to have to be something we work on in the future. Anyway, things are probably going to be hazy for a little while as you recover from your damage."

"I see," Keitaro replied, gazing down at the floor in front of him.

As Keitaro was speaking, the door to the hallway opened, and a torrent of familiar faces flooded into the room. He beamed as his friends, both new and old, greeted him with congratulations. Everyone except for Naru, who gave Keitaro naught but a smile, but to Keitaro, it was by far the most meaningful greeting of them all.

"What was up with that last punch you threw, man?" Aoki asked.

"Yeah, that was certainly a blow I've never seen before," Kimura added.

Keitaro shrugged. "Like I was just saying, I don't really remember much about what happened after I took that second counter-punch. I just tried to hit him with the strongest punch I could think of at the time."

"You reared back like you were gonna throw a huge hook, like this," Aoki said, twisting his body so that his upper and lower body were facing opposite directions. "But instead you threw a cross," Aoki mimicked Keitaro's winning punch as best as he could.

Kitsune chuckled softly and stepped forward. "I believe I can clear up this little mystery for you guys."

Naru, whose face began to color at the mere mention of Keitaro's final blow, was now brimming bright crimson. "Kitsune, don't you dare!" she warned, but she should have known better. Kitsune would never pass up an opportunity to put the screws to her.

"What are you getting all embarrassed about, Naru-chan? After all, you're the reason he was able to pull that off in the first place!" Kitsune continued, an impish grin on her face.

"What are you getting on about?" Takamura asked, demanding an explanation.

"Come off it, Keitaro," Kitsune said when she saw Keitaro's dumbfounded expression. "It's not as if you haven't seen that punch, or more to the point, taken that punch about a thousand times."

A light bulb went off above Shinobu's head. "Oh, I know what you're talking about now."

"It makes sense," Motoko added with a nod.

"Yeah, Keitaro knows the feeling of that punch by heart. It kinda makes me feel bad for that Kentaro kid," Haruka said, fishing in her pockets for her cigarettes.

Keitaro collected his thoughts and mused over them for a few moments, until it finally struck him. "Oh, yeah, of course!"

"You're always the last to the party, aren't you?" Kitsune asked the ronin.

"Um, I still don't get it. Can someone explain for me?" Mutsumi asked, raising her hand.

The group of females, sans Mutsumi, inexplicably fell on their faces.

"It's simple, Mutsumi-san," Keitaro said with a smile, "it was a rahrufunsh."

"Uh," Ippo said. "What's going on here?"

As Keitaro was letting the cat out of the bag, Naru dashed across the room with blinding speed and covered Keitaro's mouth with her hand before he could finish.

I believe what Keitaro was trying to say was," Kitsune began.

"Kitsune!" Naru barked.

"Naru Punch," Kitsune finished.

"Say what?" Aoki asked.

"I hate you," Naru cried.

"I love you, too, sweetie," Kitsune riposted with a wink. "Here's the thing: that guy is a major-league pervert," she said, pointing at Keitaro.

I hate my life, Keitaro thought to himself. With Naru's hand over his mouth, he could not make a single argument to defend himself. At the same time, that was probably the closest she had ever physically been to him. Willingly, that is.

"Couldn't be any worse than Takamura," Kimura whispered to Aoki.

"He's always tripping over himself when he's around Naru, copping feels on her using the excuse that he was only trying to keep from falling. Or walking in on her when she's on the toilet, or peeping on her when she's changing or naked in the hot spring."

"I think he might actually be worse," Aoki replied to Kimura.

"So, in her righteous indignation, she socks him one right on the kisser when he pulls any of his antics," Kitsune explained, hitting her open hand for emphasis. "That's what you saw him do. It was clearly a Naru Punch."

"We should stay away from her too, I think," Aoki added to Kimura. Kimura nodded his head in agreement.

"So what you're saying is that Keitaro was able to mirror a punch he had taken before?" Ippo asked.

"Precisely, my dear Watson," Kitsune replied with a wink and a thumbs-up.

"That's…incredible," Ippo stammered.

"I don't know what's more crazy," Aoki said, "the fact that Keitaro was able to do something like that or a girl like her would be able to throw such a scary punch."

Naru appeared as if she were ready to break down. Her outward feminine charm was now in shambles.

"Hey, Naru," Su chimed in, "something's wrong with Keitaro."

All eyes returned to Keitaro, who had turned a gnarly shade of purple. Naru still had her mouth over his mouth and nose. He couldn't breathe! With a sharp gasp, Naru released her clutch on his face, and he fell forward, taking Naru with him.

"For your consideration, Exhibit A," Kitsune said, bowing grandiosely.

Keitaro gasped for air, taking a few seconds to regain his bearings. Things went hazy after Naru covered his mouth, just like Kamogawa predicted. After blinking a few times, his vision cleared, and when he thought he was looking at the floor, he was actually looking at Naru. Not at her face, but at her chest. "Boobs?" he asked without a second thought.

Naru cleared her throat, catching Keitaro's attention at once. "Would you mind terribly getting the hell off of me?" she asked, her tone as frigid as it was venomous.

Keitaro leapt off of the woman, who rose to her feet slowly and methodically. He braced for impact, clutching his eyes shut. Naru reached back, clenching her fist. "Here it comes," Kitsune cheered, her eyes shining with a light of their own.

Naru reached out and poked Keitaro's forehead with her finger. Keitaro flinched, then poked an eye open. Naru had since turned away from him, and retreated to the door.

"That was it?" Takamura asked.

"I'm not going to hit him, at least not tonight. He's already beat up enough as it is," Naru said, giving Keitaro a warm smile. "I'll forgive you for this one."

"How boring," Aoki muttered. "If not for his sake, at least do it for ours."

"Anyhow, on to more important matters," Kamogawa interrupted the goings-on before things spiraled even further out of control. "Would you young ladies mind clearing out of here so the kid can change back into his street clothes?"

"Aww," Kitsune cooed, batting her eyes in Keitaro's direction. "You don't mind if I hang around, do you, Keitaro-kun?"

"OUT WITH YOU, NOW!" Kamogawa snapped, finally having lost his patience. He waved his cane about menacingly until all those lacking Y chromosomes were chased out the door.

"Although given the company you keep this will probably be impossible for you, you should take it easy for a few days so you can recuperate," Yagi explained to Keitaro as he changed.

"To hell with that," Takamura interrupted, "we're getting our party on tonight!"

"I second that idea, Takamura-san," Aoki said, and he and Takamura high-fived.

"And you are definitely coming with us, as well as all of those beautiful women that were just in here," Kimura added.

"I rest my case," Yagi said, defeated.

"So, Keitaro," Kimura said, leaning against a nearby locker and folding his arms, "what's the story between you and this Naru chick, anyway?"

Keitaro was busy pulling his shirt over his head, but froze at the mention of Naru's name. After a moment, he caught himself and finished donning the shirt. "I'm not sure what you mean," he lied.

"Bullshit," Aoki exclaimed with a cackle. "She was making eyes at you the whole time she was in here."

"R-really?" Keitaro asked, unable to contain his grin.

"No, not really," Aoki said, picking his nose and blowing the booger off his finger. "But it sure seems like you two have got something going on, we're just not sure what."

"Well, one thing is for sure," Takamura said with an enormous grin.

"What's that?" Keitaro asked.

"You've sure got the hots for her!" Takamura cackled. "And you don't have the stones to tell her, am I right?"

"That's so not true!" Keitaro cried.

Ippo placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully. "Why does this sound so familiar to me?"

Keitaro and his party walked out of the exits fifteen minutes later, and Kamogawa pulled him aside. "I'm ordering you to take it easy for a few days. That's no running, no lifting, nothing strenuous at all, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Keitaro replied.

"Good…You did well tonight, kid. You listened well, and you performed splendidly. You certainly may have a future in this sport, if that's what you want to do."

"Are you serious?" Keitaro asked, shocked.

"I am very serious. At the same time, however, it would require your full attention. It is a career choice, after all. If you want to continue in this sport, you cannot allow yourself to fall victim to distractions. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"I think so," Keitaro replied with some trepidation.

"Give it some thought, that's all I'm telling you. After you've healed up, we'll discuss your future with my gym."

"Okay," Keitaro said with a nod.

"Alright, already, you've had enough time to chit-chat. It's time to get the party started," Kitsune said as she ensnared Keitaro's arm in her grasp and dragged him along with her.

Kamogawa exhaled deeply. He had begun to wonder if he was getting too old to be in this business quite some time ago already. But every time he considered calling it quits, it seemed some new, raw talent forced him to reconsider. Keitaro was no different. He had a gift he had only seen in a small handful of boxers throughout his long and winding career. An 'Iron Jaw'…it would be at least enough to conquer the domestic stage. But there was something else to this newcomer as well; something even more rare, and more powerful than the ability to take an opponent's best punch and remain standing. And if it was what Kamogawa supposed, Keitaro might be able to conquer more than just Japan. He simply needed the focus and the training to harness this latent ability.

"What's on your mind, Coach?" Yagi asked his boss.

"Oh, nothing," Kamogawa replied with a stiff shake of his head. "Just thinking is all." Yet again, Kamogawa thought to himself, things were certainly getting interesting.

An hour later, Keitaro was seated at a table in a karaoke studio, wondering just how in the hell he ended up roped into this mess. His gym mates were making complete imbeciles out of themselves by singing some song called "The Champion". Unfortunately, their singing could only be described as nonsensical gibberish, and their dancing, which consisted of stomping their feet like they were in a mosh pit, left him utterly speechless.

His tenants were seated around him. Kitsune was already well into her third alcoholic beverage, trying to wheedle Naru into singing a love song for Keitaro. Su was quite literally bouncing off the walls, looking like she was having a blast. Shinobu looked like she wanted to crawl under the table and disappear, Motoko was pensive as usual, Mutsumi was clapping along to whatever beat the "singers" were conjuring at the moment, and Haruka seemed to be simply going with the flow, browsing through one of the music catalogs.

"My head hurts," Keitaro said.

"Oh, suck it up you big baby," Kitsune exclaimed, slapping Keitaro upside his head.

Keitaro smarted from the blow. "Cut it out, that hurts!"

"Amazing how you can take getting socked in the jaw so much, but now you can't even take a little smack on the head," Haruka joked.

"Well, let me beat you up for ten minutes and let's see how you feel afterward," Keitaro responded.

"You'll live," Motoko said flatly, picking up her glass of juice and pulling a swig from it.

"That's not the point," Keitaro explained.

"Mutsumi-chan, do it again!" Takamura called out through his microphone in as high-pitched a voice as Keitaro had ever heard him use.

"Okay," Mutsumi replied, picking up a remote and pressing a few buttons on it. A moment later, the very same song the men just completed began to play once more.

"Someone stop them," Shinobu quailed. "This is the fifth time in a row they are singing that song."

"Alright, Naru, you're on deck, and I know exactly what you are singing," Kitsune said, fumbling for the remote control.

"I am not singing anything you arbitrarily choose for me, Kitsune," Naru replied, yanking the remote control out of her hands.

"Boring," Kitsune replied. "Well, let's see what we can get Keitaro to sing then."

"That sounds more like it," Naru cheerfully replied, and the two best friends began to thumb through one of the catalogs.

"Hey, don't dish it out if you can't take it!" Keitaro exclaimed.

Another hour later, the Kamogawa boys' voices finally failed, and they retreated to Keitaro's table, switching places with the women, who were now singing together as a group.

"What did the old man have to say?" Takamura asked Keitaro.

"What? Oh, he just told me I might have some potential as a boxer and asked me to think about coming on full-time," Keitaro replied almost off-handedly.

"That's kind of a big deal," Kimura said.

"Right. If Coach said it, it must be true," Ippo replied.

"I just don't know, though," Keitaro said, leaning over the table. "If I said yes, I'd likely have to resign as kanrinin, leave Hinata Sou so I could be closer to the gym, forget about Toudai and," As Keitaro's voice trailed off, he stole a quick glance at his tenants, and Naru in particular. "Anyway, boxing makes me feel better than anything else, but I just don't think I could leave everything else behind."

"I don't get it," Aoki said, looking perplexed. "All of us except that lazy ass Takamura are holding down a job and boxing at the same time. Why couldn't you, Keitaro?"

"The difference is," Takamura began to explain, but not before socking Aoki squarely in the cheek, knocking him out cold, "you people aren't in school full-time, working full-time, and boxing full-time all at once. Toudai isn't an easy school to get into the last time I checked. And the only reason I'm not working is because I don't need to."

"That's far too many eggs in far too many baskets at once," Kimura mused.

"Not only that, he's also got that problem," Takamura said, then gestured with his thumb towards Naru.

"That's true. He'd pretty much have to leave his one true love behind as well," Kimura said, nodding sagely.

"Aren't you guys overdramatizing this just a little bit?" Ippo asked.

Aoki had since risen from his forced slumber, and rejoined the conversation as if nothing had ever happened. Keitaro assumed that Aoki believed he had it coming to him. "Well, Ippo, why don't we put you in the same position: boxing, or Kumi-chan. You can only choose one. What's it gonna be?"

Ippo suddenly adopted a defensive posture, craning his head away. "I couldn't possible choose between the two!"

"Exactly," Aoki replied. Then his face fell, and he said morosely, "That is a pretty tough choice. I don't think I could choose between boxing and Tomiko either."

Takamura laughed haughtily. "And you second-rate losers wonder why you'll never be champions. You let yourselves become too distracted by women."

"This coming from the biggest pervert and lecher I've ever had the displeasure of meeting," Aoki mumbled.

"That's right. And what's my excuse then? I don't have issues with females!" Kimura exclaimed.

"Please don't say those kinds of things when I'm in front of my title match, Takamura-san," Ippo begged.

One backhand later, and Aoki received his second unscheduled nap of the evening from Takamura. "Regardless, I'm champion, and you aren't, yet. And women seem to be a common thread between you people."

"Alright, boys, make way for me," Haruka said as she approached the table. When she saw Aoki slouched over in his seat, face-first against the table, she asked, "What the hell happened to him?"

"Oh, he's just resting his eyes," Takamura replied, patting Aoki on his back.

"All right Keitaro, this party is for you and we still haven't heard you sing us a number yet, and that ends now," Haruka said. "So get your ass up there and give us a show!"

"Alright, fine then," Keitaro said with feigned reluctance. In fact, he was starting to have a good time, and this would be a great opportunity for him to forget about his troubles, at least for this one night. Tomorrow was another day, after all.

The morning sunlight accompanied by the twittering of the birds on a nearby tree roused Keitaro from his slumber. Rubbing his eyes, he squinted at the alarm clock next to his futon. Eleven twenty-two. Well, it _was_ a long night. But not that long. He had been asleep for twelve hours already.

Keitaro snapped up to a seated position and a crushing wave of pain in his abdomen and head sent him reeling onto his back once again. "Ow," he exclaimed. He had not been quite this sore since he first began to train. But it was more than just muscle soreness. Even his organs hurt. It was no wonder Kamogawa wanted him to take it easy for a few days. Not that he could be active even if he wanted.

Deciding it would be better to get up and at least move around a bit, Keitaro changed, albeit gingerly, into some street clothes and left his room. Just outside of his door lay a pink envelope. With a grunt, he bent down to pick it up. As he walked down the hall and descended the stairs, he pulled a letter out of the envelope and read it.

"Dear Sempai:

We know you're probably exhausted after last night, so we all decided to let you sleep in today. Your breakfast is in the oven and the fridge. Naru-sempai said she would take notes for you at Sasaki, so you need not worry about missing class. Try to take it easy today, okay?

Shinobu

PS: I never got a chance to say it last night, so: Congratulations!"

After eating his fill of breakfast, Keitaro retired to lounging about the great room with a book. An hour later, a disheveled and yawning Kitsune padded down the staircase. "Good morning," she said, her voice cracking and raspy.

"Afternoon," Keitaro corrected.

"Whatever," Kitsune countered, shuffling past him and exiting to the kitchen.

Keitaro heard dishes clanging about in the kitchen for the next few minutes, and he considered on more than one occasion rescuing Kitsune before she hurt herself, but ultimately decided to let her be. Thankfully, no breaking sounds reached his ears before Kitsune returned, hauling what was left of breakfast with her.

As Kitsune seated herself across from Keitaro, he asked her, "Do you often sit out here and eat?"

"Yeah, pretty much, when no one's around. Why?"

"I've never seen you do it."

"Oh, well, like I said, I eat out here when no one's around usually."

"Well, I'm around, so what gives?"

"You don't count."

"Gee, thanks a lot."

Keitaro continued to read, trying to ignore the loud slurping sounds Kitsune was making. He thought about asking her to stop, but he was sure she was being intentionally loud, and asking her to stop would only make it worse.

"You really made an impression last night," Kitsune quipped between bites of miso.

"I did?" Keitaro asked, lowering his book to his chest and looking Kitsune's direction.

"Sure did, right here in my wallet," Kitsune patted her pant-leg pocket. "You pulling that win off made me about six months worth of rent."

Keitaro shook his head and sighed. "I don't know whether to be happy or insulted that you thought of me like one of your numbered horses," he said sarcastically. "I should have known."

"Look here, now," Kitsune's tone because serious. "You know that I wouldn't just throw money at a longshot for no reason."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say there was something about you that made me feel good about your chances," Kitsune said suggestively, adding a little wink for emphasis.

"I really wish you'd quit toying with me," Keitaro grumbled, returning to his book.

"I'm not. In all seriousness, kid, being a longshot means that not a lot of people are willing to take a shot on you. I did. Even if you ended up losing, I wouldn't have any regrets about betting on you," Kitsune said as she stood up and removed an enormous wad of bills from her pocket. She counted out a bunch of them and dropped them on the table next to Keitaro. "There's what I owed you from before and the next two months' rent. Thanks."

As Kitsune collected her dishes and retreated to the kitchen, Keitaro picked up the stack of bills. It was all there, just as she said. All of her back rent and two more months' worth for good measure.

Suddenly, Keitaro felt like a creep. He discounted the chance she was willing to take for him. Judging by the amount of cash in his hand and what she still had, she must have bet every last dime she had on him to win. While most of his friends would have said that he could win, none of them literally put their money where their mouths were like Kitsune did. She bet her life on him.

He bolted into the kitchen. "Kitsune?" he called to her.

Kitsune had been busy washing her dishes in the sink. When she turned, Keitaro could see she was on the verge of tears. He approached her and embraced her warmly. He whispered into her ear, "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to blow you off like that. Thanks for believing in me."

Kitsune smiled. "You're welcome."

After the two separated from each other, Kitsune wiped the tears forming in her eyes and said, "I wasn't the only one, you know."

"I'm sorry?" Keitaro asked, cocking his head in Kitsune's direction.

"You should have seen her," Kitsune chortled. "Everyone was shitting bricks thinking she had completely lost it!"

Keitaro was perplexed as to why Kitsune was laughing so hard she had to put her hands on her stomach. "Whom are you talking about?"

"Naru, silly," Kitsune said, waving her hand about as if it should have been obvious. "She was cheering for you so loudly I thought she was going to have an aneurysm!"

"No way," Keitaro replied disbelievingly, though unable to keep from smiling at the image Kitsune described. He thought he only heard her voice in his mind. Apparently, at least according to Kitsune, he in fact did hear her calling out to him, despite the fact he was unconscious at the time. "She really did that?" he asked. He needed to know.

"She sure did," Kitsune merrily quipped, nodding her head.

"That's too funny," Keitaro muttered, his mind now a thousand miles from the current conversation.

"Just thought you should know," Kitsune said, giving Keitaro a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Keitaro to his thoughts. Judging by the look on his face, she could tell they were weighing heavily on him.

Time crawled at a snail's pace for Keitaro, for he had little or nothing to do for the next several days except for a few mundane tasks. The most exciting parts of his days were walking to and from the train station before and after Sasaki with Naru and Mutsumi, even if those trips were for the most part taken in an awkward silence.

He could feel the darkness looming over his head like an ever-present shadow when he was with his fellow ronins. He had put much thought into it, but by this time was unable to make a decisive choice. To follow this current path, or make yet another fierce course correction?

He spoke upon this issue with his closest confidant, but even Haruka was unable to assuage the pressure he felt building inside his heart. "Do what you feel is right for you," she had said. As he lie on his bed after retiring from his aunt's company, he could honestly say that neither option truly felt right. Pursuing a boxing career would mean giving up on a 15-year dream and an opportunity to be with the woman he had fallen in love with. Giving up boxing would likely cause him to resent her for forcing him to give up the one thing in which he excelled.

Keitaro was about to retire to sleep when he heard a shuffling sound from above his head. A soft light shone through the hole in his ceiling, illuminating his features. The light dimmed as a head of amber hair descended through the portal.

"Are you still awake?" Naru asked.

"Yeah, wide awake, actually," Keitaro responded, moving to a seated position.

"Got a minute to talk?"

Something in Naru's soft, even tone gave Keitaro pause for a few seconds. "Sure, just give me a minute or two."

"Okay," Naru said, lifting her head back up and covering the hole once again.

Excited or frightened. Keitaro did not know which emotion was superior, but they were clashing together in his mind. He took a moment to steel his nerves before changing back into his street clothes.

Keitaro took a moment to attempt to swallow the enormous lump in his throat before he rapped lightly on Naru's door. He immediately heard some shuffling from the other side of the door and a few seconds later, he saw Naru's shadow approach through her brightly lit room. She slid her door open to accommodate him and wordlessly stepped aside to allow him to enter.

Naru was acting far too strangely for Keitaro's tastes, but rather than pressing her on the matter, he decided to see how things played out. He took a seat on the nearest pillow next to Naru's table as silently as she had let him into her room.

Even stranger still, as Naru walked across the room to sit across from him, Keitaro noticed she was wearing her pajamas, and as far as he could tell, she was not wearing a bra, but that was something he swore to keep to himself. Her hair was as straight and as beautiful as it always was, and she did not appear to have been crying, so the depressed look on her face and the way she grabbed and clutched onto her Liddo-kun doll threw Keitaro for a loop. He had never seen her looking so vulnerable.

The pair sat in a deafening silence for several minutes, staring blankly at the table in front of them. At last, Keitaro broke the ice. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Naru took a deep breath as Keitaro spoke and let out a tremendous sigh. "I'm scared," the honey-haired girl said, the volume of her voice barely above a whisper.

"Scared? Why? What happened?" Keitaro asked with concern. A myriad of assumptions ran through his mind, from Naru having a nightmare from watching a bad horror flick to somehow ending up pregnant.

Much to his surprise, Naru answered as evenly and as quietly as before, "You happened," looking up at him as she spoke.

Keitaro could only muster, "Huh?" as a reply. He lost himself in her eyes.

"It used to be really easy for me to ignore my real feelings about things," Naru explained, but to Keitaro she sounded cryptic. "But I just can't to that anymore."

"What do you mean?" Keitaro asked, puzzled. He had no idea where this was going.

"You've really changed, you know that?" Naru asked with a smile. "When I first met you I don't think I had ever known a bigger weasel. You lied almost pathologically, made Shinobu cry more times than I can remember, and nearly ended up skewed by Motoko countless times, but you always seemed to wiggle off the hook somehow."

This line of thought was doing nothing to help Keitaro's self-esteem, but the way Naru smiled as she spoke belied something else behind her words, so he endured her verbal assault.

"But then those guys from that gym came into the beach teahouse that day, and everything changed after that. You transformed yourself into something unbelievable. You became a whole new person, like a person I had known for a long time that suddenly became a stranger. You became the best version of yourself. And as much as I hate to admit it, it really scares me."

"I don't understand," Keitaro said. "Why would that scare you?"

Naru turned her head to the side and stared at the floor, looking almost ashamed to be in Keitaro's presence. "You started to pull away from everyone after a little while, including me. Not that I blame you though. Even I know that we treated you like the scum of the earth. No one deserves that."

"Narusegawa," Keitaro said empathetically.

"Anyway, I thought you were the lowest of the low, but the fact of the matter is, I was the lowest of the low, treating you the way I did. You're such an amazing person, and watching you grow and blossom proved to me that I was nothing more than a bully trying to hold you down. And that's what scares me the most: I don't want to look in the mirror and hate what I see."

"But you don't need to blame yourself," Keitaro replied, noticing that Naru was rapidly becoming upset. "I had it coming to me since I was so unwilling to stand up for myself."

"But that's the thing," Naru interrupted. "You stopped lying down and taking it. You decided to do something about it, and that's something a lot of people would not be willing to do. I know I certainly wouldn't."

"So I got into shape, stopped wearing glasses and improved my grades a little bit. What does that have to do with anything, really?" Keitaro asked. "I haven't changed that much."

"If that's the case, then I guess what happened is that you changed the way people perceived you. You were a cowardly weakling that suddenly became an invincible professional boxer. That's something inspiring."

"That's not really why I did it, though," Keitaro interjected.

"Sure, but the fact is you did. I see you in a whole new light now. You've even inspired me, Keitaro," Naru admitted.

"How's that?"

"You looked like you were at home in that boxing ring, as if it were the place you were always meant to be; your true self. I want to experience that feeling, if only just once. That's why I need to be honest with you."

"I'm in love with you." As Naru spoke the words he had always longed to hear, Keitaro's heart leapt. But the tone of her voice was as calm and as even as ever during the current conversation, and it gave Keitaro pause.

"I should be ecstatic and leaping for joy right now, but I can't help but think there is a huge 'but' coming up next," Keitaro said.

Naru gave Keitaro a wry smile. "Yeah, well, there's still that decision you have yet to make."

Keitaro gazed down at his hands. "Yeah, you're right."

"It's pretty funny to think that the easy thing to do at this moment would be to leap into your arms and beg you not to leave me," Naru said ruefully. "But I understand now more than ever that such a thing would only be selfish of me, and you've put up with me being selfish for far too long…I've put up with me being selfish for far too long."

Words escaped Keitaro as Naru continued. "You deserve a lot better than what you've had to put up with from me. Ultimately, this is a decision that you deserve to make on your own. I'm not going to stand in your way no matter what you decide to do."

"Then why confess to me all of a sudden like this?" Keitaro asked.

Naru chuckled dryly. "I know it seems like I'm being selfish by telling you this out off the blue. The logical part of me wants to say that you deserve to make a completely informed decision, but the emotional part of me just wants to be with you, and I feel like this is my last chance to redeem myself for the terrible things I've done."

"So you're just saying these things to make yourself feel better, is that it?" Keitaro asked, feeling a twinge of hurt from Naru's words.

Naru leaned forward towards Keitaro and shook her head briskly. "No, that's not it at all! My feelings for you are real! I've felt this way about you for a long time. I was just too much of a coward to tell you."

The pair drifted into silence for another inordinate period of time as each took time to collect his and her thoughts. "I wish I could say this made my decision easier," Keitaro admitted.

"Honestly, I didn't expect it to," Naru replied. "All I can say at this point is that whatever you decide to do, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and maybe we could at least start over as friends."

"I'd like that," Keitaro said, smiling at the young woman.

A few minutes later, Keitaro left Naru's room and began to wander aimlessly around the complex to mull things over. Naru loved him, and her feelings seemed to be genuine. He had long since fallen for her, and hearing her reciprocate his feelings was like a dream come true. Getting into Toudai that year would be less a dream than an expectation, and he would be fulfilling a promise that had consumed him for the majority of his life.

Accepting that path would mean giving up the thing that made him feel more alive than anything he had ever before experienced. He had grown to enjoy it, and it was the catalyst for all of the wonderful things he had seen and done for the last year of his life. He poured everything he was into the sport, and through all of the blood, sweat and tears, he found something inside himself he never knew existed. Even Naru admitted that boxing had molded him into a better person. Giving it up would be a tremendous sacrifice.

Keitaro knew that either way, he would wonder what might have been if he had chosen the opposing side for the rest of his days. However, the more he pondered over his choice, the more one idea became clear in his mind: no matter how much he fell in love with the sport of boxing, could it ever love him back?

One more sleepless night would haunt Keitaro before he made his final decision.

TO BE CONCLUDED

* * *

Next time on Hajime no Keitaro: A final choice is made, and Keitaro will have to live with the consequences. He will face an uncertain future, not knowing where his path will lead him. But will he decide to begin his new journey with or without Naru and his other dearest friends in Hinata Sou? Find out as Keitaro moves into the next step!

A/N: Yeah, I'm sure quite a few of you will be surprised to read that this story is reaching its conclusion. This was not an easy decision for me, as I have enjoyed writing this story more than any other I have crafted. However, I am looking forward to having the time to focus on my other incomplete works and a few new ideas floating around in my head. I'll have the conclusion to this story posted before you know it, so watch out for it! Thanks again for taking the time to read this work, everyone. Your kind words mean more to me than you can possibly fathom!


	18. Beyond the Ring

Hajime no Keitaro: Beyond the Ring

It was a train ride Keitaro had been on countless times before. On any other day, this train ride served as time to collect his thoughts and ponder over what he hoped to accomplish on that given day. When he reached his destination, he was calm, focused, and ready to begin his daily work. But, to him, this particular journey to the Kamogawa gym felt much different from the others. He gazed at the passing buildings, the trees, even the passersby, etching them all deep into his memory, not wanting to forget one single detail.

As the train pulled into his station, Keitaro absentmindedly reached underneath his seat for his bag. When he grasped at naught but air, he chuckled at his own stupidity. Of course he did not bring his equipment. He wasn't going there for his daily routine. He needed nothing else except his courage to see him through.

Strolling down the street towards the gym, he gazed in wonder at his surroundings, at last taking in the sights he had neglected to notice during his training: the western-styled houses in the residential district, the quaint-looking stores in the shopping district, and the smiling faces of the people going to-and-fro with their purchases. Now that his mind was relaxed from its intense focus, he was able to take in the things he glossed over during his roadwork.

Even from a distance, the sound of leather striking leather resounded in Keitaro's ears as he approached his destination. It was a most familiar sound to him, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face to think about his friends working hard on the other side of the door. He looked up to each of his sempai as having a part of the man he truly desired to become:

Aoki's impish nature and frankness with women, even if his taste with the opposite sex left something to be desired.

Kimura's steadiness in both mind and body, even if he was considered nothing more than average.

Takamura's strength and stature. Although he was a pervert and a prankster, his undying love for his sport was undeniable.

Ippo's courage, determination and humility. He let nothing stand in his way in reaching his goals, and he was the very reason Keitaro was able to change his own course in life. He truly owed everything to him.

Keitaro paused at the door, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. If he fell apart here, there was no way he could get through this. He gathered his resolve and pulled open the door. He headed directly to his trainer's office. There was no need to delay the inevitable.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed in your decision, Keitaro," Kamogawa said sternly. But he had not risen from his chair in anger. Perhaps, Keitaro thought, he had seen this coming and was prepared for it.

"I'm sorry sir," Keitaro apologized again, bowing deeply. "This was truly a difficult decision to make. However, I have confidence that I am doing the right thing. This is what I want."

"Are you quite certain of that, kid?" Kamogawa asked.

Keitaro stood his ground. "Yes, sir, I am."

Kamogawa grunted, glancing off to the side as if disinterested in Keitaro's excuse. "If you say it like that, then I guess I have no right to argue. If your heart really is not in this, then you shouldn't be here. You'll just drag everyone else down with you."

He might have been insulted, but Keitaro's heart was lifted by Kamogawa's answer. "Thank you very much for everything, sir. I truly owe you a lot."

Kamogawa stood up and rounded his desk to stand in front of Keitaro, who was still bowing low before him. Giving him a tap on his shoulder, Kamogawa said, "Just promise me one thing, alright?"

Keitaro stood erect. "Yes, what is it?"

Kamogawa grinned cockeyed at the young man. "When you are ready to lace back up, you'll come back to my gym and not one of my competitors."

A slow grin crept across Keitaro's face. "You have my word." With that, and a simple handshake, Keitaro was dissolved as a member of the Kamogawa Gym. From that point on, he was no longer a professional boxer.

A huge weight was lifted from Keitaro's shoulders as he stepped out of Kamogawa's office. He let out a sigh of relief and glanced around. To his surprise, all four of his gym-mates were standing just a few feet away from the door as if they were waiting on him to exit.

"So it's true, then," Kimura stated.

"You're really leaving the gym for good?" Ippo asked, looking downcast.

Keitaro smiled wistfully before answering. "Yeah, I am."

"Just let me say that I saw this coming a mile away," Takamura said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Like hell you did," Aoki grumbled.

"Let's face facts. Sure, Keitaro has been coming in like usual, but he just hasn't had that fire in his eyes like he did before," Takamura noted.

"But isn't that how it usually is when you come off of a match?" Kimura asked. Aoki nodded his head in agreement with his friend.

"That's only the case for you two losers, because you've never won a big match before," Takamura bluntly retorted. Despite Aokimura gnashing their teeth at him, Takamura continued to explain, "As Ippo I'm sure can attest, when you win a big match that you were supposed to lose, you get fired up even more than ever, and you can't wait until your next match is lined up."

Ippo nodded. "That is true. Winning when you are the underdog just makes you want to work harder."

Takamura slowly nodded his head sagely. "But in this case, Keitaro's just been half-assing it since his match against Sakata!"

"But why?" Ippo asked. "Why are you quitting boxing?"

Keitaro smiled at Ippo, trying to put his restless mind at ease. "I made a promise to someone a while back that I need to follow through with. It's a personal matter, really."

Aoki donned his all-too-familiar crooked grin and surmised, "It's that Naru girl, isn't it. She poisoned your fragile mind by telling you that she loves you, didn't she?"

Keitaro laughed out loud. Though the question might have been sarcastic, it was amazing that the dull-witted Aoki actually managed to hit the nail right on the head. "Actually, that's pretty much the gist of it, other than the whole 'poisoning my mind' part."

Aoki's eyebrows disappeared into his scalp. "Wait, what?"

"We made a promise to go to Toudai together this year. And I can't break a promise I made to the person most important to me."

Kimura nudged Ippo with his elbow playfully. "You should listen well to this man, Ippo. With his advice, you might actually stand a chance with Kumi-chan!"

"Oh for Pete's sake, will you give it a rest?" Ippo pleaded.

"True love, is it?" Takamura asked magnanimously.

Keitaro noticed that Aoki was quite literally sobbing into his sweat-stained shirt. "Are you alright?"

"That's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life," Aoki wailed as he snatched Keitaro by the collar. "If you don't make Naru-chan happy, I'm going to kill you!"

Kimura gently pried Aoki away from the ronin as he continued to cry like a little girl. "Don't mind him. He's just been deprived of release lately, since he's preparing for his next match."

"TOMIKO-CHAN! TOMIKO-CHAN!" Aoki cried out with furious agony as he ripped away from Kimura's grasp, fleeing into the locker room.

"Anyway, before you leave," Takamura told Keitaro, looming over the former boxer, "there's one more thing we have to do before you can leave." Without waiting for a reply, Takamura grabbed Keitaro by the nape of his neck and yanked him towards the locker room.

"Hey, what is this? Let me go!" Keitaro cried, but to no avail.

Fifteen minutes later, Keitaro was standing in the middle of the practice ring, decked out in a set of Ippo's old workout clothes and in full sparring gear. The foursome of boxers sans Aoki, who was apparently still crying it out in the locker room, were standing in the corner, shadow boxing to warm up their bodies. "What exactly are we doing, now?" Keitaro asked.

"Consider this our special farewell ceremony," Kimura replied, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

"Each of us gets three minutes to pound our memories into that thick skull of yours," Takamura added.

Keitaro backed away, throwing his gloved hands into the air. "Wait a minute. I have to fight all of you?"

"That's right," Ippo responded. Keitaro cringed at his sempai's all-too-serious retort. Just sparring with any of these ranked fighters was a dangerous proposition for a lowly newbie such as he, but they all appeared they were prepared to seriously fight him with all of their strength.

"I'm dead," Keitaro croaked.

"Wait, wait, wait!" A high-pitched voice shrieked from the opposite side of the gym. The boxers turned and noticed Aoki running towards the ring. "You better not be forgetting about me! I'm gonna take out my frustrations on you right now, Keitaro!"

Takamura gasped. "You'd better run Keitaro, or you're gonna get Aoki's jizz all over your clothes!"

Ippo adopted a disgusted look. "Those are my clothes, Takamura-san…"

Aoki performed a nifty dive-slide into the ring and sprang to his feet with catlike agility. "I'm up first," he said, giving Keitaro his best stare down glare.

Keitaro raised his hands, unwilling to back down to Aoki's pressure. He would do his best, and live up to the standard of these fine boxers. He might go down, but not without a fight. And a fight he would give them.

"Alright then," Takamura said, slapping the ringside timer with his gloved hand. The timer blared out a loud staccato buzzing sound, signaling the spar to begin…

Though Keitaro considered him a quirky fighter at best, and an outright clown at worst, Aoki actually had quite a bit of skill. His awkward pressure kept Keitaro off-balance, and he landed blow after blow to his head and body from all sorts of unpredictable angles. The shots may not have been painful due to his headgear, but they certainly sapped his strength. By the end of the round, Keitaro had his back on the ropes and his legs were already shaking from the damage.

"Goddamn it all!" Aoki cursed, slamming his fists together after the buzzer sounded the end of the round. "Another ten seconds and I would have had you!"

Keitaro panted and wheezed. "You're probably right. The bell really did save me."

Aoki reached out with his right hand. "Good job hanging in there. You weren't bad for a kouhai."

Keitaro smiled brightly and tapped Aoki's fist with his own. "Thanks a lot. For everything."

"I guess it's my go then," Kimura said with a sigh as he jumped onto the ring apron.

Aoki did the honors of tagging in his best friend and made his exit. Kimura entered the ring and danced in his corner as Keitaro leaned against the ring post to catch his breath.

"Alright, here we go," Takamura said, tapping the timer once more.

Keitaro thought he might have fared better against Kimura, considering he was an outboxer that preferred not to slug it out, but that was not to be. Kimura charged at the sound of the bell, and Keitaro barely had the time to raise his guard before a deluge of punches rained down on him.

Keitaro attempted to fight back, but Kimura calmly avoided his punches and retorted with an even fiercer attack. With roughly one minute remaining in the round, Kimura landed a sharp one-two combination to Keitaro's chin under his headgear, sending him sprawling to the canvas.

"Nice one, Kimura," Aoki cheered.

"Come on, Keitaro-san, get back up," Ippo cried out, slamming his gloves on the mat.

Keitaro rose slowly and resumed his fighting stance. "Let's go," he said, stepping forward bravely. Kimura answered his sparring partner's call by lashing out to his body with a strong left hook.

The buzzer sounded, and Keitaro was saved from going down another time. His hands were heavy, and he could barely move about the ring. But he remained on his feet. He felt a sense of pride welling inside him, giving him energy.

"You're a fantastic fighter, Keitaro. You're going to be missed around here," Kimura said with a smile, tapping Keitaro on the shoulder before turning to leave.

Takamura, wearing a most devilish smirk, climbed into the ring to relieve Kimura. Keitaro chuckled inwardly. He felt like he was already hanging on by a very thin thread. Takamura would surely put him out of his misery.

"I was going to go easy on you," Takamura said, winding his arms. "But seeing you stand through Aoki and Kimura's best punches fired me up a little bit. You'd better be ready for me."

Keitaro nodded weakly, though he was sure he could only take one punch before he was out for good.

"If you can make it through my round with your consciousness intact, I'll consider you a real man, Keitaro," Takamura added.

As if in response to Takamura's words, a surge of energy welled through Keitaro's body, and he easily raised his hands. "I'll give it my best shot!"

"You can do it, Keitaro-san!" Ippo exclaimed, ringing the bell.

Takamura charged forward like a rampaging bull, and Keitaro tightened his guard in preparation for the onslaught. A right cross sent Keitaro reeling, his back slamming into the corner mat. The jolt was like an electric shock, but he could still feel strength in his legs. Opening his guard, he stole a peek at Takamura, who was grinning at him like an idiot. "Still standing?"

Keitaro took his pose and waved him closer.

"Alright, here I come then!" Takamura belted and charged forward.

When the buzzer sounded, Keitaro had lost track of how many times he had fallen after six. It seemed whenever he saw an opening to escape and buy himself a few seconds from Takamura's rush; he would hit him with a resounding shot that felled him. Whether it was from his own strength or from the cheering of his name by his fellow boxers standing outside the ring, he managed to reach his feet each time he was downed.

Takamura placed his gloved fists on his hips and smiled proudly at the thoroughly beaten man standing before him. "Looks like I couldn't quite finish the job. Alright, a promise is a promise I suppose." Takamura approached Keitaro and held out a fist. "You're a real man, Keitaro."

Keitaro beamed. "Thanks a lot, Takamura-san." Keitaro tapped his own fist against Takamura's. He could barely even lift an arm, let alone find the strength to punch his hand with any amount of force. He hoped that was the end of the punishment.

To Keitaro's chagrin, Ippo then stepped into the ring. "You've got to be kidding me, right?" Keitaro asked.

"Just three more minutes," Ippo said, wringing his hands together. "This is your final round. Show me what you've learned over the last year."

His sempai was standing in the same ring as he, the number one contender for the national title in his own division. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fight against the one he aspired to become. Keitaro wasn't about to let something like fatigue or his bruised and battered body get in the way of this chance.

"I'm coming at full strength," Ippo told Keitaro as a warning.

"Is that okay?" Aoki asked. "He's getting ramped up for his fight against Date-san. He might just kill him!"

Keitaro laughed inexplicably, giving pause to the other fighters. "I'm not afraid of getting hurt. I'm going to put up my best fight. So you're the one that should get ready, Ippo, because I'm coming to knock you out!"

Ippo grinned widely. "Very well, then." He put in his mouthpiece and gestured for the bell to be rung.

The buzzer sounded, and the pair met in the middle of the ring together for one final round. Keitaro's words were merely for show. He knew there was no way to win. But he wanted to give Ippo everything he had, and he wanted everything Ippo had in return. The only thing he could do was hope beyond hope that he could remain standing at the end of those final three minutes.

A bucket of water was splashed over Keitaro's head, bringing him back to consciousness. Sputtering and coughing, he slowly became aware that he was lying on his back in the middle of the ring. When he cleared the fluid from his lungs he said, "I guess I didn't make it."

"Sorry about that, Keitaro-san," Ippo said apologetically, looking like he had just broken a valuable piece of china.

"What the hell happened anyway?" Keitaro asked. He could not remember the blow that finally sent him into darkness.

"Left hook to the body followed by an uppercut," Aoki explained.

Takamura laughed. "You got dropped like Jesse Ferguson."

Keitaro winced in pain as he attempted to rise to a seated position. The others were gracious enough to remove his headgear and gloves while he was unconscious, and he was unsurprised to find his jaw was tender to the touch. "It's strange," Keitaro said absentmindedly. "I'm glad I can't remember how much that punch must have hurt, but I'm sad at the same time." As much as it pained him, Keitaro wanted to remember that one last punch.

"Well, it's sure as hell going to give me nightmares," Aoki grumbled. "That was one hell of a hit."

"If you want, I can reproduce what happened for you," Takamura said, grabbing Aoki's shirt before he could run away.

Keitaro laughed merrily. "That won't be necessary. I can still feel it, after all. And that's all that matters to me."

As Kimura was helping Keitaro to his feet, a door slammed shut on the opposing side of the gym. A cranky Kamogawa stood in front of the door, looking at the men with an incensed glare. "What the hell are you dumbasses doing just standing around? Get the hell out of here and do your roadwork, or do I need to get on my scooter and show you all hell?"

Aoki sighed mightily. "I guess that's our cue."

"Are you going to be alright by yourself?" Kimura asked Keitaro. Keitaro replied by simply nodding.

"Alright, you bums, try to keep up with me if you can!" Takamura yelled, taking a running jump over the ropes and landing with cat-like grace on both of his feet and dashing towards the exit without missing a single beat.

Ippo followed closely behind, yelling, "Wait for me, Takamura-san!"

Aoki groaned. "This is why I hate roadwork."

"And it's about to get a whole lot worse!" Aoki yelped and spun on his heels, discovering Kamogawa was standing right behind him. Atop the coach's head was the helmet he wore when he rode his scooter. "Now move your ass out of here!" Kamogawa waved his cane to and fro, chasing Aoki and Kimura out of the ring whimpering like two broken dogs as they ran to the exit.

Kamogawa turned his attention back to Keitaro, who was laughing out loud at his friends' misfortune. He caught himself quickly and regained his composure, however. "I trust you can find your way out?" Kamogawa asked.

"Of course," Keitaro replied with a smile.

"Take care of yourself then. I hope to see your face again in here someday." Kamogawa said, and left the ring. Keitaro watched as he pulled open the exit door and yelled, "What the hell are you two still doing here?"

Keitaro heard Aoki reply, "We were waiting on you, dumbass!"

"Get moving right now! And you'd better be glad I'll be with you when you drop dead!"

"If you kill me, I'll kill you back, old man!"

"Move your legs, not your mouth!"

"Shut up!"

The sound of Kamogawa's scooter faded into the distance, and Keitaro was left in silence, fighting back the tears welling in his eyes. These were memories that he would never forget.

After a quick shower and changing back into his street clothes, Keitaro bid farewell to his second home for one last time and left without any regrets.

The thought never occurred to Keitaro that he might have to explain why his face messed up as much if not more so than his match with Kentaro to the ladies waiting back home for him. As such, when he reentered Hinata Sou and Shinobu emerged from the kitchen to greet her sempai, the shocked look she gave him came as a surprise.

"What's the matter, Shinobu-chan?" he asked the girl who was covering her mouth with her hands.

"Y-your face," the girl replied frantically.

"My face?" Keitaro asked, reaching up and touching his cheek. The familiar sharp sting of pain reminded him of those earlier events. "Oh yeah, this. Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks."

Kitsune was making her way down the stairs when she spotted Keitaro. "Shinobu-chan, is dinner ready, whoa! What the hell happened to you? Rough day at the office?" Kitsune asked, stifling a chuckle.

"I was just saying, it's not a big deal," Keitaro replied.

"Not a big deal?" Kitsune guffawed. "It looks like the yakuza worked you over! Do you owe them more money than I do, or something?"

"It's really…wait what did you say about owing money to the mob?" Keitaro asked.

Kitsune giggled bashfully and waved her hands as if trying to swat the question away. "Never mind that. So what's for dinner, Shinobu-chan?"

Keitaro scowled. That fox was adept at avoiding dangerous questions, but in the end it was probably best he not get tangled up in her wrongdoings anymore than necessary, so he dropped the question. More importantly, he had some important business to relay to his tenants.

"Curry pork tenderloin," Shinobu had said. One of Su's favorites. "It should be ready when Naru-sempai and Otohime-sempai get back from cram school."

Good, Keitaro thought. Dinner should be a good time to tell everyone. He decided he would wait until then. "Well then, I'll just head upstairs until then. Would you mind coming to let me know when it's ready Shinobu-chan?"

"Of course," Shinobu replied, her wonderful smile gracing Keitaro's eyes once more.

Once Keitaro disappeared up the stairs, Kitsune teased the young girl, "So cute! You're such the doting wife, aren't you, Shinobu-chan?"

Shinobu's cheeks instantly turned a shade of crimson. "Leave me alone!" she exclaimed, retreating into the kitchen to avoid further embarrassment.

Kitsune plopped her rump down onto the sofa and snatched the day's newspaper from the table. Flipping the pages open, she noted aloud, "That girl just makes it too easy."

Keitaro sat quietly in his chair for a moment and admired the scenery around him. It was the first time in quite a while the whole of the troupe were assembled at the table for a meal. It was rather cramped with Haruka and Mutsumi added into the fold, but one could not wipe the smile from Keitaro's face as he took a good look around him.

"What's with the look?" Haruka finally asked, noticing Keitaro had yet to touch his food.

Keitaro blanched. "Sorry. I was just thinking about how long it's been since everyone has been at the table like this. It makes me happy to see all of your faces like this."

Haruka smiled back at her nephew. "Well, thanks for inviting me. It's been a while since I've enjoyed a free meal courtesy of Shinobu-chan. After all, she should be charging for such excellent food."

"Oh, stop it," Shinobu replied, waving off Haruka's flattery. "This is one of the easier dishes I can make."

Now was a good a time as any, Keitaro thought, stealing a glance at Naru as she was absentmindedly chomping away at her rice bowl. "Actually, I invited you for a reason, Aunt Haruka."

Haruka flinched. "In light of this excellent meal and in the courtesy of present company, I will not slap you silly this time. But for crying out loud, would you please call me Haruka-san?"

Keitaro rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. "Sorry, old habits die hard. More importantly, I have something I'd like to tell everyone."

Keitaro had Naru's attention in an instant, and he could feel her gaze on him. He could tell she was frightened, and he wanted more than anything to set her mind at ease. But this needed to be taken from the beginning for the sake of the others, each of whom had a right to know exactly what was happening.

"It's about my face, and why I look like this," he began, looking into the eyes of each woman. He even had Motoko's rapt attention, much to his surprise.

"Is this about your next fight?" Kitsune interrupted.

"In a way, I suppose." Glancing sideways, Keitaro noticed Naru looking as crestfallen as he could remember, perhaps even more so than when she had failed the entrance examination last year. Just wait, Narusegawa, he thought. "There isn't going to be one."

The air seemed to be sucked from the room, and for a moment, not a single sound could be heard, as six sets of chopsticks froze in mid-movement.

"As of today, I am no longer a professional boxer," Keitaro explained, then pointing to his face, he added, "This was a parting gift from my friends. They gave me a proper sendoff."

"Why are you quitting, Urashima?" Motoko asked, looking as rattled as any other at the table.

"I'm not really quitting, Motoko-chan. There's just something more important I want to do now," Keitaro said, stealing a glance at Naru, who was silently trying to hold back tears of joy. "I wanted to tell you first, but I thought everyone should know."

"Idiot, don't say something so obvious in front of everybody like that," Naru said, turning away from the others to hide her tears.

"Besides, I'm pretty certain everyone will be happy to have their kanrinin back, right?" Keitaro asked with a beaming smile.

"You got that right. We've had a leaky faucet in the second-story toiled for over a month now," Kitsune said.

"The door to my room is starting to come apart," Su added. "It needs to be replaced."

"The hot spring is in desperate need of some cleaning as well," Motoko added. "The water doesn't even look blue anymore."

Keitaro laughed. "One thing at a time, okay? And let's enjoy dinner before you all start bossing me around again."

The rest of the meal was spent in merriment, with everyone tossing stories around about Keitaro's escapades during the last half-year. From his sudden interest in fitness, to when his secret about boxing was finally revealed. The eccentric boxers he became friends with, and his surprising upset win in his debut match. Everyone had her own personal story to share. This time was full of memories none of them would soon forget.

Later that evening, after Keitaro graciously saw to a few of the minor fixes required around the premises, he found himself standing in front of a familiar door. He rapped lightly on the wooden frame. "Narusegawa, are you still awake?" he called out softly. The light from her room shone through the paper door, but during their study sessions she was prone to falling asleep at her table.

He heard a rustling from the other side of the door, and he took a breath to calm his frantic heart as a shadow approached the door. The door slid open a foot, and a smiling face greeted him. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Come in."

Naru stepped out of the way, and Keitaro disappeared through the portal, and the light from the room illuminating the hallway slowly faded into darkness.

Kitsune smiled inwardly, taking a seat on the stairwell she had been peering down the hallway through. She had to give Keitaro some credit. To say something like that in front of everyone at dinner and sneaking off to Naru's room the very same night? That took some guts.

And Naru seemed to have changed more than anyone might have thought. Under normal circumstances, she would have dropped him at the mere mention of him making a pass at her, but it seemed she had finally come to terms with her feelings entirely on her own. "You've certainly grown up, Naru," she said aloud.

"What did you say, Kitsune-san?" a voice asked through the darkness.

Kitsune's heart leapt into her throat, and she lurched to her feet. "Motoko, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. What are you doing sitting on the stairs?" the swordswoman asked.

Damn that kendoist's quiet feet! "Sorry about that," Kitsune said, devising a hasty lie. "I was just getting some exercise and needed a quick break."

"I see," Motoko replied. Kitsune could tell by the sound of her voice that Motoko was not buying her explanation. As Motoko passed, heading down to the first floor, she said, "It's not wise to peep from such an obvious vantage point."

Damn it all to hell! Though everyone knew she was a voyeur, she still hated when her cover was blown so easily. "Yes, ma'am," Kitsune replied, following Motoko down the stairs in defeat. As she climbed the stairs, however, a new idea sprang to mind. She wondered if she had the right tools to pull it off. It was worth a try, she thought as she headed towards her room.

ONE YEAR LATER

"This looks like the place," Keitaro said, approaching the simple-looking ramen restaurant.

Naru might have been put off with Keitaro bringing her to such a lowly place, but this was, after all, a special occasion. This was more his style anyway. It was a part of his charm.

"Welcome!" a friendly voice exclaimed as the couple entered. "Whoa, there's a face I haven't seen for a while!"

"Aoki!" Keitaro said, waving at the man wearing a chef's apron standing opposite the counter. "How are you?"

"I'm just great, man," Aoki replied, shaking Keitaro's hand as he sat at the booth. "So you did hook up with her after all," he added, giving Naru a once-over. "I'm proud of you!"

"Thanks," Keitaro replied with a laugh as Naru shook hands with the restaurant's proprietor. "Has Ippo not come yet?"

"As far as I know, he's on his way along with everyone else," Aoki explained as he passed two menus to the couple.

"What's good here?" Naru asked as she perused the menu.

Aoki chuckled haughtily. "Anything I make you will find absolutely delicious, I guarantee you."

"He's right, as much as it sucks to admit," a familiar voice said. "He might box like shit, but the man knows how to make ramen."

"Takamura-san!" Keitaro exclaimed, rushing to greet the man at the door. There were others behind him. "Kimura-san! Ippo! Kumi-san! You're all here!"

"How's it going, Keitaro?" Kimura asked nonchalantly.

"It's been a while!" Ippo exclaimed.

"Hello," Kumi said, waving.

"It's about time," Aoki said, passing out menus to his newest customers as they sat down.

As usual with such reunions, larger groups tend to break apart into smaller gatherings, and this one was no exception. As the men chummed it up about their recent goings-on, Kumi and Naru broke away into their own conversation.

"So things are going well between you two?" Kimura asked Keitaro.

Keitaro nodded. "As well as can be expected. We don't get to see each other as much as we'd like, considering we're in completely different classes at Toudai, but we're happy."

"That's so great," Ippo replied with a smile.

"What about you and Kumi? And progress in the last year on that front?" Keitaro asked.

Takamura laughed. "The day this chump grows a spine and asks her out properly is the day I eat my own shit."

"You mean you still haven't?"

Ippo shook his head morosely. "Not yet."

Keitaro laughed. It was just as well he supposed, considering how long it took for he and Naru to make it official, and they saw each other every day, living under the same roof. Ippo and Kumi likely only met once per month, if that.

"More importantly, champ," Keitaro said with a grin, punching Ippo in the arm. "Congrats on finally winning the title! That was an amazing match!"

"You were there?" Ippo asked, grinning ear to ear.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world! I was literally jumping up and down when you knocked Sendo down that last time."

"It was hard," Ippo said. "I thought I had lost so many times, I couldn't believe it when I finally won."

"So how does it feel to have that belt around your waist," Keitaro asked.

Ippo scratched his head and shrugged. "I don't really know. I've only been champion for a little while, and I haven't defended it once yet. It still doesn't feel real to me."

Keitaro chuckled. "That's so like you."

"What about you, Keitaro-san? I heard you're unbeaten in the amateur ranks. Is that right?" Ippo asked.

Keitaro nodded with a smile. "Yeah, Toudai's got a pretty good boxing club. You would be surprised how strong some of the amateurs out there are."

"I know all to well. Take Vorg-san for example. He was one of the strongest people I've ever met in the ring."

"The amateur world champion, huh? That sounds like it could be nice," Keitaro said whimsically.

After a moment's pause, Ippo asked a surprising question, "Do you ever think about trying to fight professionally again?"

Keitaro sighed deeply and answered honestly, "Every single day. But still," he added, looking at his girlfriend, "I have no regrets about my choices."

"I understand," Ippo replied. "As long as you're happy."

"That I am."

"Alright, here we go," Aoki returned from the kitchen carrying a tray full of ramen bowls. "Here you are, ladies," he said as he took two bowls off of the tray and placed them in front of Naru and Kumi. Dropping the tray in front of the men, Aoki said, "You should know which ones are yours."

Takamura glared at Aoki. "What the hell is with the difference in service, you asshole?"

Aoki refused to back down to the champion's pressure. "What the hell do you care anyway? Or do you want to be treated like a girl?"

"I'll kill you!" Takamura roared as he tried to jump over the counter to get at his prey. Kimura and Ippo held Takamura back as Aoki retreated back into the kitchen.

"Were they always like this?" Naru asked Keitaro.

Keitaro laughed. "Pretty much."

After the meal, and after everyone said there goodbyes, Naru and Keitaro made their way hand-in-hand back towards the train station. Their pace was slow and leisurely. Neither was in a major hurry. They mostly made small talk about meeting their old friends again. Naru shared with Keitaro about how frustrated Kumi was with Ippo for not telling her how he really felt about her, and Keitaro reminded her of the fact that her brother had a major grudge against Ippo for handing him his only loss in the ring.

"Talk about a strange situation," Naru noted aloud.

"They'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure," Keitaro replied. "We did, after all that happened with us, right?" Keitaro gave his girlfriend's hand a loving squeeze.

"You know, I've been thinking recently," Naru said. "You seemed to be really happy to see your boxing friends again."

"Yeah, it was good to see everyone and hearing how much progress they've all made in the last year," Keitaro answered.

"I asked Kumi about how she felt about her brother and boyfriend getting hurt all the time. She said to me that she knew the one place the both of them felt the most alive was when they were fighting. It's the one place where they feel they are truly themselves."

"Yeah," Keitaro replied, gazing at the ground before him as he walked.

"I asked if she ever got scared, and she said every single time they fought, she was scared they might not make it back in one piece. But the next thing she said really struck a chord with me."

"What's that?" Keitaro inquired.

"She said that as long as they were happy doing what they were doing, she had no right to get in the way of their happiness. She would support them one-hundred percent, no matter what happened."

"She's a really nice person, isn't she?"

Naru nodded. "And in that moment I finally realized…" Naru stopped in her tracks, gripping Keitaro's hand tightly. "Although I'm scared even now to think about what might happen, I have no right to stop you from being the person you are."

Keitaro was puzzled. "What are you trying to say, Naru?"

"I've watched you fight in your amateur matches, but they aren't the same. You're holding something back. I can tell."

Keitaro stood silently as Naru bared the truth. She was right. So much so that it shocked him down to his bones. Not even he had realized it before just then. Honestly, he just went through the motions. There was not an ounce of emotional motivation in his recent fights.

"You're a fighter, Keitaro. You belong in that ring, slugging it out with all of your heart and soul. And that's where I want you to be, because I can see the real you in that place; the man I fell in love with."

"But we promised," Keitaro said, shaking his head.

Naru silenced Keitaro with a stroke of his cheek with her open hand. "We'll just have to make a new one, won't we?"

"Naru…"

"If you promise to fight until you're satisfied, I'll promise to be there by your side, no matter what might happen. Good or bad."

Keitaro took a deep breath. "I'm going to need to think about this for a while."

Naru nodded. She expected he would say that. "You don't need to answer right away."

The couple continued their walk, though at a slightly higher pace. Keitaro wrapped his arm around her back, and she snuggled into his chest. "No matter what, huh?"

Naru nodded wordlessly.

"Wait a second," Keitaro said, halting his steps with some mysterious realization. "Was that some sort of backwards proposal?

Naru giggled. "Geez, you really are dense aren't you?"

FIN

A/N: At long last, this story comes to a conclusion. It has truly been a pleasure writing this for all of you. I have a few special thanks to give out:

A special thanks to George Morikawa and Ken Akamatsu for authoring the two works involved in this story. Your writing and drawing were truly the primary inspiration for this piece of fiction.

Thanks to Mike for his Beta reading and giving me two big thumbs up every time I wrote something well and for being patient with me during my many bouts of writer's block. This final chapter is for you, buddy!

A big shout out to Lunalundus Scribex and FinalKingz for linking this story on their websites. It's always a treat to learn your work is being shared with regulars.

Lastly, a HUGE thank you to all of my readers and reviewers. You are responsible for making this fic what it is. I graciously thank you for all 59,666 hits, 138 Favorites and 148 Story Alerts on this story at the time of this writing!

What's next? Well, I've still got quite a few active projects up my sleeve, and I might have another Love Hina project in the works waiting for the green light from the original author. Take care, everyone, and I hope to read your reviews soon!


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